Splintered Mirror
by Morenar
Summary: A business deal brought Atobe Keigo more than he bargained for - a mystery and a renewed acquaintance with long lost friend who is more lost than found. Set one year before "Mending Broken Wings". Semi-AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Splintered Mirror**

Summary: A business deal brought Atobe Keigo more than he bargained for - a mystery and a renewed acquaintance with long lost friend who is more lost than found. Set one year before "Mending Broken Wings".

Warning: Don't read "Mending Broken Wings" if you don't want spoilers.

**Chapter 1: Shiroi**

Atobe Keigo was 23-years-old and the youngest director of Atobe (J) Corporation. His headquarters was in the prestigious Shinjuku office. That made him one of the most eligible bachelors in Tokyo Metropolitan. It meant much of his after hours was spent charming old men with eligible daughters, unless, of course, he was in the company of those delectable daughters. Sometimes, he even found himself in the company of their delectable sons.

Everything was, of course, going according to the senior Atobe's master plan. Keigo was charming, his début unforgettable. His meteoric rise had given his name glamour and mystery; attracting the powerful, the influential and a few sharks smelling fresh blood. The new generation of connections were being made and solidified for the future prosperity of Atobe Corporation.

A month ago, Keigo, in one radical move, entered into joint venture with an art gallery. It was a modest establishment and his business partner had more art-sense than business-sense. Within a month, he had turned over 50 millions worth of transactions. More business than the gallery had seen in the last 10 years. His partner decided to throw a lavish party to celebrate their success and invited the _Who's Who_ of Greater Tokyo. Naturally, Keigo, with his charms and easy flamboyance, shone brighter than any masterpiece on display.

It brought the gallery much publicity. In the limelight, there were many who wanted a piece of that pie. Keigo had received at least five offers to buy over his share of the gallery, each one more outrageous than the next. It was rumoured that the young Atobe would sell his share to the highest bidder by the end of the night, turning a neat profit in the process.

There were many faces in that party, both new and familiar. Some time at the height of the party, he had a flash of deja-vu. An old familiar face, he thought, though he could not put a name to that face. By the time he turned for a second glance, the apparition had vanished, leaving an impression of white blur. He narrowed his eyes a moment, but there is little to recapture the feeling. Then, ever pragmatic, he mentally shook himself and put it out of his mind.

He left the party at 1am. Comfortable buzz of alcohol in his system left him in good mood as he rode the elevator up to the hotel suite his partner had reserved for him. He had declined all the offers from the ladies to mull over the three most attractive business offers. A share in an exclusive hotel chain would please his father immensely. Especially, considering that it was privately owned and run by members of that family. It was with these pleasant thoughts that he found himself ushered into his well-appointed accommodations.

As the bellboy closed the door behind him, Atobe found himself not quite alone as he had expected. A beautiful woman in simple, yet elegant white kimono awaited him at the low coffee table with tea set and small finger food laid out. She had her back to him, the low back collar giving a tantalising glimpse of pale smooth skin and seductive curve of slender neck accented by white choker studded with dark amethysts.

As Keigo stalked into the room in irritation, she bowed low. Her dark brown hair falling in a thick long braided rope to coil by her side. Her voice was low and husky as she whispered a greeting.

"Get out!" Keigo said rudely, pulling off his tie.

She raised herself gracefully as if she had not heard his command. Her eyes remained downcast as she walked towards him, removing his cuff links and dinner jacket which she put away with quiet efficiency. She was tall, her head coming to eye-level of his 6' 2" frame.

In the dim light, an old name breathed through his mind. _Tezuka_. He smirked and captured the down-turned face, half hidden in shaggy fringe. Tilting it upwards towards the light, he frowned at the angular planes, the lack of make-up and the Adam's apple that bobbed nervously.

Atobe Keigo smiled in amusement. She was a _he_. And he looked like an old rival, close enough to be a sister ... or rather, younger brother. He had to admit, he was bemused. Someone had the gall to send him a male courtesan. A risky move, considering he had been more discreet in his dalliance with the _boys_. On the other hand, he had casually flaunted his dalliance with the _girls_.

He sighed in appreciation. It was such a pretty gift too, with unintentional bonus. He briefly reconsidered his decision to send it back immediately.

He smiled a slow lazy smile, predatory and amused. The warm skin was soft and white against his palm. His thumb stroked along the jugular vein, feeling the tremor of quickened heartbeat.

"You may stay."

Atobe allowed himself to be seated and served. The courtesan remained silent, working with efficiency and grace. Watching him work quietly, he was able to appreciate the subtle art of seduction that were normally the purview of highly trained geisha.

"Your name?" Atobe asked as he received the teacup along with a glimpse of pale white wrist.

"This humble one is called Shiroi, Keigo-sama," the courtesan answered with another obeisance, long fingers arranged and neatly folded. Atobe was treated to a peek at the deep curve of spine.

"A fitting name," Atobe noted, letting his eyes roamed over Shiroi*, from his white kimono, to white ribbons, to pale alabaster skin that gleamed cold moonlight.

The face both disturbed and amused him. He idly wondered what reaction he could get out of Tezuka if he sent him a suggestive photo of Shiroi. Had his old rival changed much in the intervening years? Since Tezuka had left for Germany, they no longer compete in the same circle. While Atobe continued to play tennis at inter-school and inter-varsity tournaments, Tezuka had moved on to professional circuit. Atobe had lost touch with him.

He shook himself irritatedly. Why was he wasting time thinking of his old rival? Shiroi was certainly a more aesthetically pleasing subject for thought. Other that the face, Shiroi and Tezuka had nothing in common. Shiroi's voice was lighter and of higher register. He was also right-handed, from the way he prepared and served tea. His hands were soft and smooth, without a hint of callus.

Atobe bared his teeth, feral and predatory. Those teasing glimpses of milk white skin had whet his appetite. The proposals could wait till morning. He had a cute little white rabbit he wanted to play with.

In the interstices of time, the hour too late to be night and too early to be morning, something stirred from deep within. Awakened by an unexpected memory. A memory of bright sunlight, scorching heat, deep passion and unrelenting determination. A memory of sheer exhaustion and excruciating pain that burned and purified. A time of innocence, idealism and blissful ignorance. Chased down by grief of unbearable loss.

In the intersection of darkness and light, grief brought anger, hatred and fear. Anger of being wronged. Hatred of cages and binding chains. Fear of pain and failure. He had a compulsion to protect against hurt. Only one thought remained. Escape. Be it escape from a place or time or existence, it did not matter. It was his only directive. Escape.

Atobe woke up when something went 'bump' in the dark. 04:47 blinked at him from the bedside clock. He fumbled for the master switch next to the bed. Light flooded throughout the large suite.

Shiroi stared back at him from the other corner of the room, eyes wide and half-blinded by the sudden brightness. Atobe took a moment to enjoy the view. He had unbraided Shiroi's hair during their coupling. The long tresses now curled and cascaded over his nude body, giving him some semblance of modesty. Shiroi blushed and tried to cover himself with something clutched in his hand ... Atobe's silk shirt.

"Ahn .. leaving so soon, my pet?"

Shiroi's eyes hardened and his brows drew together in a deep frown. "I am not your pet to toy with, Atobe!"

That wasn't right. For a moment, Atobe had an eerie sense of familiarity. '_Seigaku students are not toys to entertain you, Atobe_!' an old voice had warned him. A deep, stern, authoritative voice. The same impossible voice coming from Shiroi's delicate lips.

"Tezuka?" Atobe choked out. It shattered the spell.

"No! No! No!" Shiroi cried, covering his ears. "Don't ... don't say that name." Like a marionette whose strings had been cut, he collapsed on the floor, curled into a miserable ball. "There is no Tezuka Kunimitsu. Tezuka Kunimitsu is dead. No! No! Don't call him. Don't call him."

Atobe stared in shock at the hysterical Shiroi. It really was too early to start the day.

Atobe tied the sash around his dressing gown as he walked towards Shiroi. "Oi! Stop that racket!" He shook Shiroi roughly. Finally, in exasperation, he lightly slapped Shiroi. That stopped the noise. Shiroi stared wide-eyed at him. "What do you know about Tezuka Kunimitsu? Tell me!"

Shiroi pressed his fingers against Atobe's lips urgently. "Don't say his name," he said, full of secrets and fears. "Bad things happen when he comes."

"Hmm? Ore-sama is not afraid of Tezuka. Now, tell me."

"Shhh! Master will hurt you if you say his name. His name is cursed. You will die if you say his name."

Atobe gathered Shiroi's hair and held it up. The face and skeletal structure was as he remembered of his old rival, if he ignored the fact that Tezuka was more fit, with lean hard muscled frame. Certainly not the skin and bones emaciated frame Shiroi was sporting. He didn't remember Tezuka being so small either. The old Tezuka was 4cm taller than he was. A fact Atobe deeply resented at that time. Then again, he had gained another 5 inches in senior high and his shoulders had broadened in full adulthood.

Shiroi was about Tezuka's height when Atobe last saw him eight years ago, a week before he left for Germany. They had their farewell match then, where they played 5 sets. In the last set, at Atobe's request, Tezuka had played all out, activating both Hyakuren Jitoku and Saiki Kanpatsu. Finally, he brought out Tenimuhou in full glory. Tezuka trashed him 6-2. Tezuka broke Tannhäuser serve after 3 games. Atobe had shook hands with him the last time, giving Tezuka the directive to conquer the European courts.

Shiroi could not be Tezuka. Tezuka should be somewhere in Europe, raising hell in tennis tournaments, like Atobe used to do in Elementary school. Shiroi must have been a relative. But what if he was Tezuka? Where else did Tezuka's voice come from? Why was he so afraid of Tezuka's name?

Atobe glanced at the clock. 04:55 blinked back. He called London office to get together a dossier on Tezuka. Then he turned to the enigma before him. "Tell me about your master."

At 6am, Atobe called his head of security, Asakura Yoshikage. He knew Shiroi was a bait. He did not realise how dangerous a bait. Shiroi's master was part of a gambling and vices organisation. The gallery was a good place to launder questionable income. At best, he could expect blackmail and mild threats. At worst, would they harm his person or his family? Not right away. His family had powerful connections that would bring considerable trouble to those that tried to hurt him.

Atobe steepled his fingers and reconsidered his game plan. His initial target was the privately held shares in businesses owned by Saionji family. He knew the youngest son fancied himself an art aficionado and boasted of his desire to own a successful art gallery. The young man had no interest in his own family's shipping business. Atobe's venture into buying a dying gallery was to attract the man's attention.

The gallery owner, an old friend of Atobe's grandfather, had been grateful for Atobe's involvement and did not question Atobe's personal motive. He was planning to retire. If he closed the gallery, he would have gotten very little from it for retirement. With Atobe's injection of funds and shrewd publicity, the artists the gallery represented were propelled into celebrities and the value of their work had multiplied. It was the new hype to get a modern Kishi sculpture or an Abe oil painting to show off in the offices and homes of the rich and famous. There was little for young Saionji to do except to continue the successful course Atobe had charted.

What the rumours did not mention was that both the owner and Atobe intended to sell the gallery as a whole. As far as the owner was concerned, the sale would profit both of them. He had left the sale negotiations to Atobe, citing the minimum expected price. It was far below Atobe's expectations.

Shiroi's presence now threw a wrench in Atobe's personal plans. Well, it was not an impossible situation. He was quite capable of executing similar plan again with another gallery. Perhaps with some slight amendments. Mind made up, he called for room service.

At 8am, Shiroi's master's men were politely, but firmly escorted to Atobe's suite. They had expected to arrive upon an unsuspecting Atobe, caught in a compromising and highly embarrassing position. They had not expected to be greeted by Atobe's own men and brought before his presence like some criminal.

Atobe was ensconced on a large wing back chair, sipping his morning coffee, like a king on his throne. He was a picture of peace and boredom. Shiroi was bound and gagged, kneeling on the floor under the watchful eye of one of his guards.

"This scrawny rat is yours, I presume," he said by way of greeting.

* * *

* Shiroi means white.

**Author's Note:**

Here's the story that is linked to "Mending Broken Wings". It is set about a year before "Mending Broken Wings". It is a beginning, among many beginnings. I tried writting this story from 3 different versions/angles. So far, this is one that seems to work best. I wrote about 14 chapters of this version for past 1.5 years. I have a rough skeleton of past, present, vague recent and glimpses of future.

Anyway, this is kind of experimental, in terms of tone, style and atmosphere. Strangely, while I conceived the story with Tezuka as the Protaganist, Atobe pretty much dominated and stole the show during the process of writting.

While I don't think the actual written body is _lemony (I tried and failed miserable at writting smut), _the implied events and the themes could probably be considered Teen/Mature-rated topics, hence the rating. Thank you for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 2**

After tense negotiations, Atobe sold off the entire gallery for three-quarters the cash amount he had originally planned. Nevertheless, the Master, by phone-proxy, had agreed to Atobe's demand to include Shiroi as part of the sale, to make up the other quarter. Based on what little intelligence he had gathered from Shiroi, he had accurately calculated the price of sale to be well above the Master's budget, then feigned great annoyance and reluctance to include Shiroi into the payment.

Atobe did not even look once at the bound Shiroi throughout the process. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground. He had to let the Master assume that he intended to punish Shiroi for the crimes of 'disturbing his peace' and 'breaking and entering'.

As long as the Master believed that Atobe had no intention of helping or releasing Shiroi, Atobe and his staff might walk out of this without bloodshed. Otherwise, it would seriously inconvenience to his person and worse, came to the unwelcome attention of the Atobe patriarch. Atobe fought tooth and nail for his position and his independence from his father. He would not let them go so easily.

On paper, the gallery was sold for the cash value, of which, half would be paid to the owner. Atobe still made a tidy profit from his half, just not as profitable as he had hoped. There would be hell to pay when he reported this back in the Annual General Meeting. He didn't think his father or the Board would be happy to know that the rest of the 'profit' was tied up in Atobe's illegally acquired pleasure slave. Not that he would ever report that.

As soon as his security confirmed that the Master's men had left the area, Atobe ordered his valet to pack everything. His new purchase went into an extra large trunk, still gagged. Asakura had untied him and told him to climb in with stern instructions to remain absolutely silent and still. Shiroi obeyed him meekly, wincing at the bruises Master's men had left him in a fit of rage.

When the man started kicking the bound Shiroi, Atobe had feigned indifference, mask perfectly in place except for the tightened grip on his coffee cup. He did not know what disturbed him more, the men's casual abuse or Shiroi's utter acceptance of his treatment. Asakura finally put a stop to it, much to Atobe's relief, admonishing the thugs not to damage the merchandise or he would send a 'Bill of Damages' to their boss.

Once home, Atobe ordered Shiroi unpacked, cleaned up, fed and made presentable. Atobe himself spent an hour scrubbing and soaking himself clean. Dealing with slimes like the Master made his skin crawl. The dossier from London was waiting for him when he was done. It was only a single page.

_'Tezuka Kunimitsu not found in 200 major cities in Europe. No airline/train/bus ticket, hotel booking, tennis tournament listing, club registry, bank account, telephone number or address under Tezuka Kunimitsu in the last seven years. Latest records were 8 years old. Variations of the name yielded several results, but none of indicated age (23)._

Last paper trails:  
XX July XXXX - Passenger - ANA Flight NHXXX NRT-MUC  
XX July XXXX - Patient - Nauchereberg Medical and Sports Rehabilitation Institute, Munich, Germany.  
XX July XXXX - Traveller's Cheque - Haikawa Bank, Munich, Germany.  
XX August XXXX - Passenger - ANA Flight NHXXX MUC-NRT

Recommendations:  
Expand search to worldwide?  
Expand search to records older than 8 years old?  
Any known alias?'

Atobe stared at the page, one word running through his mind. "Impossible."

_"Match point, Atobe. Come! Give me a ball I can't return."_

"Ore-sama am feeling generous today. You better bring home some Grand Slams, Tezuka."

"I'll save you a seat on the Wimbledon court."

"Oi! Are your brats going to see you off at the airport?"

"No. It's the first day of Senior High school. We will have our farewell party the day before."

"Good luck then. Not that you need any of it."

"Thank you. Have a safe trip tomorrow. Good bye."  
  
That was the last Atobe had seen Tezuka. They were 15 and half years old in March. That Spring day was filled with promise of new life. Sakura petals painted the streets delicate pink. What happened between that time and yesterday? Tezuka had promised him bench coach seat at Wimbledon. He had never known Tezuka to break a promise. Not till today.

_"You're a fool, Keigo,"_ he told himself. _"He's not Tezuka. It's irrelevant anyway. You just made a bad purchase. Doesn't matter if he's Tezuka or not, it's still a bad deal."_ He couldn't disagree with himself. He really had gone soft in the head. It was his secret weakness.

A firm knock broke his train of thought. His butler entered with the tea service. "Master Keigo, what do you intend to do with the young man?"

"Ahn? I have not decided yet. Is there a problem?"

"I heard from Asakura-san that he broke into Master Keigo's hotel room." The old man looked disapproving. "We should hand him over to the police."

"No. I'm not done with him yet." Atobe sipped thoughtfully at his tea.

"Is it wise to keep him here? He doesn't seem ... ah ... quite right in the head."

"Oh?"

"He seemed rather uneducated and ... there wasn't any identity card on him. He can't even write his own name properly. No family name. Just Shiroi. Asakura-san said he writes like a five-year-old."

"Right or left-handed?"

"Right."

"I see."

"There are also bruises on his person. Asakura-san had Dr. Sento checked him out. Has he been in a fight?"

"Don't worry about it. How bad is the damage?"

"Ah, some bad bruises and minor scrapes. No broken bones."

"Good. You may go, Michael. Send Shiroi to me immediately. Oh ... Call for Ayako. Tell her to get here by two."

"Yes, sir."

-

Shiroi was sent in dressed in plain cotton dressing gown. The staff had not found suitable clothes for him yet. He took one glance at Atobe's cup and moved to refill his tea. Then he stood aside, waiting quietly for instructions.

Atobe observed him silently a few moments more. It was obvious Shiroi was trained to wait and serve. He did not fidget as he stood patiently. There was a stillness about him. No sign he had been bound, kicked and squeezed into box just moments ago. Atobe pointed to an empty chair. "Sit. Show me your chest."

Shiroi untied the cords and slipped the robe off his shoulders. The bruises stood stark angry red, shiny with ointment. His personal physician must have treated him. Atobe reached out to run his fingers lightly over the them. He looked even more like Tezuka in the daylight. Atobe examined his left arm and back closely. "Expensive job. The stitches are so fine. It's hardly visible, unless you know what you're looking for. Plastic surgery?"

"Yes, Keigo-sama."

"Where is your other contact lens?" Atobe said, looking into Shiroi's eyes, one dark brown and one green.

"Shi ... Shiroi doesn't know, Keigo-sama. It fell."

"Hmph. Do you know why you are here?"

"Keigo-sama is Shiroi's new master."

"Shiroi, ore-sama really dislike men like that."

Shiroi bent his head down. Keigo-sama side stepped his statement. He served enough patrons to know Keigo-sama did not agree. Keigo-sama meant 'he was not Shiroi's new master' without saying it. Keigo-sama had every right to reject him. He was damaged. Keigo-sama had such keen eyes he could see through Shiroi's flaws, even through surgeries to remove his ugly scars. He was not as beautiful and pleasing as he should be. He grew afraid. Afraid of being alone and unwanted. He swallowed his fear and schooled his features to stillness. It was improper to show an ugly face. He would accept whatever fate Keigo-sama decided for him.

As much as his posturing indicated otherwise, Atobe Keigo had issues with certain practices. Mainly abuse and exploitation, in all its euphemisms - sugar-coated with politically correct terms and shrouded by blissful social ignorance. His preternatural insight would never allow him such convenient blindness. By the time he graduated and clawed his way to the top, he accepted that he will never be popular in certain subsidiaries of the world flung corporation. He was too blunt and uncompromising about his criticisms on certain business practices.

His staff adored and spoilt him, not because he owned them and liked ordering them around. They served him because he gave them complete freedom to do whatever they wanted however they wanted. To be creative, to be curious, to be geniuses, to be efficient or just plain anal, as was the case with his housekeeper. Their roles and duties were reciprocal. He cared and protected them as only he could: with his name, his charms, his wit and his money. He had garage full of custom-job cars and motorcycles that his driver had played with with his money to prove it. They took care and protected him. With their talents. With their knowledge. _With their hearts._

Human beings are not meant to be bound and traded like assets. Especially not their own children.

"Shiroi, look at me! People are not properties. You are your own person. Do you know what this is?" Atobe held up a piece of paper.

"Shiroi's contract."

Atobe dropped the paper into the shredder. "No one can own you any more. Understand?"

Shiroi nodded hesitantly, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Now, take this pen and paper and start writing. 1) Optometrist - glasses, contact lenses and supplies. 2) Wardrobe - 10 full sets casual, 5 formal. 3) Bank - open savings account."

Asakura was right. His handwriting was childish but legible. Atobe paused at the sound of familiar footsteps outside his door. "Come in, Ayako," he said to his personal secretary. "Take the shopping list from Shiroi here. Take him with you and get it done by today."

Ayako eyed Shiroi before turning back to Atobe. "Keigo-san, London called to check if you have further instructions for them."

"No. That is all."

-  
Note:  
After further editing and polishing, Atobe's own complexes has emerged! 


	3. Chapter 3

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 3  
**  
Atobe Keigo stood at the base line on the indoor tennis court. He hit an easy underhand serve. Across the net, Shiroi awkwardly held a tennis raquet in his right hand, swung it wildly and missed the ball. Atobe stopped himself from heaving a sigh.

"That's pathetic, Shiroi. Play properly. It's impossible to miss the ball."

"Sorry, Keigo-sama."

"Use your left-hand!"

Shiroi switched hand, wincing slightly. This time, Atobe hit the ball directly at Shiroi's sweet spot. No way Shiroi could miss it. "Sorry, Keigo-sama." The racket slipped to the ground and the ball bounced merrily away.

"Hold it properly, Shiroi! You didn't even touch the ball."

"Sorry, Keigo-sama. It's too heavy."

"It's a tennis racket. How heavy can it be? Hold it up. Higher. Higher!"

Again, Shiroi dropped the racquet. Atobe had not even served the ball yet.

"_Kami-sama,"_ he thought. "_He can't be Tezuka. This is the proof. Tezuka wouldn't play like some idiot who had never seen a racket in his life before. Even when his left arm is broken, he could still play an easy game with his right. Shiroi is not Tezuka, no matter how uncanny the resemblance. The rest was just coincidence. Besides, Shiroi's upper left body was injured in some way and not from any kind of tennis. Some kind of nerve damage, from the way he holds the racquet._"

That made him happier, despite Shiroi's pathetic performance.

"_That's right. I did not bed Tezuka Kunimitsu! Thank kami-sama._"

He was rather pleased with himself for coming up with this simple test. As for Tezuka, no one could simply live without some kind of trail, even if it was simply a credit card purchase or a ticket booking or immigration checkpoint. At the very least, London office should have registered Tezuka's flight to Germany a week after Atobe's own flight left Tokyo. For someone like Tezuka, even if he kept his money under his pillow and paid everything by cash, he should have shown up in some kind of tennis-related event.

On the other hand, surely Tezuka would not have lied to him about going back to Germany to prepare his entry into pro-circuit. So far, the investigation he ordered was not too different from the standard background checks he routinely requested for potential business opportunities or to confirm the claims of someone wishing to do business with him. He had encountered enough con-artists and gold-diggers to be suspicious of them. Whomever compiled or read the report would have assumed he was checking for fraud identity or false claims. If he asked for the same search extended worldwide and it came back negative ... it would raise questions instead of being buried and forgotten in the vast bureaucracy of a multi-national corporation. If it came back positive ... he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. A part of him still wanted to hold on to the belief that Tezuka did not lie to him about leaving Japan.

Although Tezuka's strange disappearance remained at the back of his mind, he firmly set it aside, reminding himself that Tezuka's affairs were none of his business. Now, he simply had to figure out what to do with Shiroi.

Two days later, Michael and Asakura both looked happier when Atobe announced that Shiroi was moving out. What all of them did not know was that Atobe had secretly rented an apartment for Shiroi. He was well aware of how certain associates of his father that kept mistresses play the game. He never thought he would be playing a similar game with Shiroi. Secret accounts, shell organisation to handle expenses and legalities ... It was useful to know about things he should not be aware of.

Unfortunately, after some rather frustrating interactions with Shiroi, Atobe had little choice. He had come to the conclusion that Shiroi was like an animal born in captivity. He was completely incapable of functioning on his own in the outside world. All his knowledge and memories were limited to the boundaries set by his previous master. He had no knowledge of legal documents, money or public transport. Never even shopped for anything in his life. Freeing him to fend for himself like this would be cruel. Like Michael said, he was uneducated. Or rather, he was very educated, just not in normal everyday meaning of the word.

As he signed off the last of the paperwork, Atobe mused over his own strange behaviour. He liked Shiroi, in his undemanding humble ways. It was like adopting a charity pet. "_I wonder if all that qualifies me as 'keeping a mistress'. Except I'm not married, or having some illicit affair. And my 'mistress' is the wrong gender."_ He chuckled, imagining the horrified expression of those old coots for having a mistress like Shiroi.

It was a small one-bedroom apartment in a modest part of town. Smaller than Atobe's own 3-room office suite in Shinjuku. Shiroi looked at it like the most wonderful gift in the whole world.

"Keigo-sama, this is all for Shiroi?" Shiroi asked excitedly. He flitted room to room excitedly, touching a table or opening a drawer.

Once he had left Atobe Mansion and Atobe had dropped his perfect heir and businessman façade, Shiroi's personality had taken a complete turn. He was immediately reassured that his Keigo-sama was a kind and forgiving person. And Keigo-sama liked him very much. Keigo-sama was not going to throw him away and leave him all by himself, even though he can't do all the things Keigo-sama asked him to do. In fact, Keigo-sama was now his protector and guardian and teacher. Shiroi had so many things to learn, Keigo-sama made Ayako-san his assistant teacher to teach Shiroi all kinds of things. It was Ayako-san that gave Shiroi a small notebook to write his lessons so he won't forget them. Like how to ride the trains and buses. Buy things for himself. Withdraw money from a machine.

Atobe smiled indulgently. "This is all yours, Shiroi. You can come and go as you please. It's your home now."

"Home ...," said Shiroi softly, testing the word. "Shiroi's home."

"Aa. It's yours to do whatever you like."

"Anything Shiroi likes? Thank you, Keigo-sama!" Shiroi smiled with bright shinning eyes and coyly kissed him.

"Anything," Atobe answered as Shiroi unbuttoned his shirt. Atobe closed his eyes. "_Tezuka is Tezuka. Shiroi is Shiroi. And never the twain shall meet!"_ he told himself firmly. He had not had sex with Shiroi since that night in the hotel. Not that Shiroi was unwilling. He couldn't as long as the Tezuka question loomed over his head.

Besides, he was always under the scrutiny of servants who were not completely loyal to him. Other than his chauffeur, Asakura, Michael, and a few key personnel, the majority of the staff that maintained Atobe Mansion was hired through his uncle's recruitment company. Something he was slowly changing, one name at a time. His relatives could squabble over the rest of the world. His intended to stake his claim in Asia Pacific and make it his seat of power. His shrewd analysis and insight predicted several economic shifts in the region that would put him in greater advantage in the near future. When that happens, the rest of the world would fall into his hand.

Warm hands sliding underneath his shirt distracted his ambitious thoughts. He smiled as Shiroi tilted his head suggestively. It was a discrete old neighbourhood with no central heating. Instead, it had thick walls and reinforced sound-proofed insulation material against cold winters. He checked the blueprint himself.

"It's time we baptise every piece of furniture ..." he said.

* * *

**Respond to Reviewers:**  
Thank you everyone! I'm glad you guys liked it! I will do my best to deliver a good story.  
**Aoe chan: **Well, Shiroi is Tezuka. Sort of... let's find out together with Atobe.  
**geecee:** Thank you. That is high praise indeed. I agree it's so easy to write Atobe in crack-comedy and take advantage of his excessive wealth and ego. Have to remind myself not to overdo it. I want a believable multi-dimensional Atobe. As to whether Atobe/Tezuka will end up a couple - No. I did start out thinking they would, but while writing it, Atobe decided no. I have to bow to Ore-sama's wishes. I want to aim for a story where there's yaoi-element without being yaoi. If that makes any sense ... :P  
**Amy-sama90**: ... or something. Yes. Something like that, but it is not amnesia. I actually checked DSM IV and psychological journals to prepare for the background story. I need a life. ToT  
**Aan: **Wah! Are you psychic? You pretty much guessed what I was building up in the last chapter. Hope this one addressed some of those questions. Don't worry about commenting too much. I love long comments. And to think deeply about a writer's work, I am very honoured you chose mine. I really appreciate the critique.


	4. Chapter 4

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 4**

A week after Atobe installed Shiroi in his new home, his Head of Security, Asakura cornered him in his office.

"Master Keigo," he said, looming over the seated Atobe.

Nobody called him 'Atobe', Atobe mused. Not when they work for the Atobe family or company. Not even those he hired himself. That name belonged to his grandfather.

"Master Keigo, are you listening to me?" said Asakura sternly. He only used his 'stern' voice with Atobe when he was displeased about something Atobe did.

"What can I do for you?" Atobe said pleasantly. He leaned back and smiled charmingly. It was a game, at least on Atobe's side. The angrier Asakura got at Atobe, the sweeter Atobe responded to him. It was like baiting bear with honey. It drove the humourless Asakura nuts. The more serious he tried to be, the more frivolous Atobe became.

"I know what you've been hiding, Master Keigo. It's not use sending me away all over Tokyo when you want to go to your hiding place."

"Is that so? Are you jealous I didn't want to share?"

"How long are you planning to hide this from me?"

"Forever."

"Master Keigo!"

"Yes, dear?"

Asakura took a deep breath. "Master Keigo. I will dump him in Tokyo Bay immediately."

Atobe shot out of his seat. "Don't you dare touch him!" They both blinked in shock. Atobe recovered immediately and waved it off. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Asakura smirked. "It's too late to take that back, Master Keigo."

"Fine. Fine. I'm hiding Shiroi. So what?" He sat back down and crossed his arms impudently.

"Master Keigo, please let this one go. You don't know how dangerous he is." He lowered his voice to a more reasonable tone. "If anyone finds out, it will be a scandal. Your reputation ... your name will be dragged through the mud. Your father will transfer you back to London and put you in your nice little golden cage and breathe down your neck every second."

"Then, don't tell anyone. I'm not giving up on him."

That was unexpected. Normally, Asakura could get Atobe to be reasonable when faced with the threat of overbearing paternal interest. "Keigo, please reconsider."

Atobe was taken back for a moment. They were both not playing according to script today. "No!"

"Fine. If he disappears one night, I don't know anything about it. I'm too busy checking the security system at the mansion."

Atobe clenched his teeth. Looked like Asakura was not backing down either. "If you miss playing at yakuza, you should send me your resignation letter. Why waste time on this charade?"

Asakura looked disappointed before he turned away to look out the window. "You don't understand ... he is too dangerous as one of your idle projects."

Atobe narrowed his eyes. For the first time, he realised a note of fear had crept into Asakura's voice. "Explain properly."

"Back in hotel, where you found him ... I recognised the voice on the speaker phone. He is known as 'The Master' in the underworld. Shiroi is nothing more than a doll to him. But I know you. You are trying to make him a person. Do you know what kind of person he is? Or what he will become? Have you considered what kind of danger Shiroi will bring to your person? Keigo, no matter how much confidence you have in me, I can't guarantee I can protect you from yourself. Before all that happens, please stop this."

"No. You knew Ore-sama am an unreasonable employer when you signed up. Ore-sama is being unreasonable. Deal with it."

Asakura gave him a long suffering look. "Then, if you don't mind, please don't hide anything like this from me again. I would also like to accompany you when you visit. And I can take care of checking on him everyday. There is not need for you to be sneaking around more than necessary."

Atobe widened in surprise. "You would do that for me?"

"Yes, please. You are not inconspicuous, Master Keigo," he said. He winced at the thought of Atobe Keigo trying to be anonymous with a hooded jacket, track suit and sunglasses, all expensively branded and monogrammed with his initials.

"Very well."

At the end of the day, Asakura gave Atobe some normal street clothes to change into. Simple black pants, white cotton shirt, simple blue tie and average quality coat that every office worker wore daily. Even with ordinary clothes, he looked too neat. Asakura loosened the tie and unbuttoned the top button. Not exactly 'normal' but now he looked more like a middle-class man returning home from work. There was still something too polished about him. But that was probably Atobe's own aura and perfect posture.

"Slouch a little."

"Ore-sama do not slouch. It's unrefined."

"You look too fresh and energetic. It's all wrong. I can pick you out of a crowd."

"Ore-sama is always picture perfect."

"You're trying to blend in. Nobody is as perky as you after a long day at work. Try to look tired."

"But Ore-sama am not tired."

"Sigh … I am. I work for you. That makes two times even more tired."

He settled for messing up Atobe's hair and giving him fake glasses. Asakura decided Atobe could pass muster without attracting too much attention. Then, they took a taxi to the apartment.

Shiroi was very happy to see them, welcoming them in with tea and snacks. Atobe asked Shiroi about his day and what he did and how he was adapting to living on his own. While Atobe was talking to Shiroi, Asakura roamed the place, checking windows, outside walls, doors, wiring, every room and furniture. As he went through the kitchen, he shook his head in exasperation. Atobe Keigo trying to teach a doll how to be normal. It was like a blind man teaching a deaf man how to paint.

Kobe beef with its beautiful marbled pattern stared back at him. High quality sake that taste like spring water. Apples that Asakura knew cost 3000 yen a piece. Sheets made of Egyptian cotton with 400-thread count. They were Atobe's favourite things.

"Shiroi-san," Asakura interrupted them. "Where do you go to do your household shopping?"

Shiroi pulled out a folder that Keigo-sama had compiled for him. Phone numbers for delivery orders. Catalogues of the finest quality food and house hold products imaginable. Exquisite restaurants within 100 mile radius of Shinjuku.

Atobe smiled a proud triumphant smile that said, "_I thought of everything! You can't find fault with anything I missed._"

Asakura collapsed on a chair, dumbfounded. He should have expected it. Atobe Keigo was an Atobe after all. "Master Keigo," he said gravely, "with your permission, from now on, I will take over Shiroi's education."

Atobe frowned in displeasure. "What do you mean? I taught him everything he needs to know."

"I'm sure you did, Master Keigo. You taught him everything an Atobe needs to know. Now I have to teach him what normal people, who don't have 7-figure monthly income, needs to know."

Atobe crossed his arm and muttered sulkily about 'plebeian' details.

"Shiroi-san, I will pick you up tomorrow at 10 am, after I see Master Keigo safely to his office. We will go shopping and I will answer any questions you may have about everything. Even things you have asked Master Keigo about. Especially things Master Keigo has taught you."

Shiroi looked questioningly between Atobe and Asakura. Keigo-sama was behaving quite strangely. He didn't know if he should go along or decline Asakura's order.

"Master Keigo," Asakura said, tilting his head at Shiroi.

Atobe harrumphed. "Fine. Be ready tomorrow, Shiroi. I will test your knowledge in the evening."

"No, you won't, Master Keigo." Asakura stood up and shook out Atobe's coat. "You will be having dinner with Miss Hatsunagi tomorrow. You can test him on Saturday, to make sure Shiroi remembers his lessons properly."

Atobe gave him a dark look.

Asakura whispered discreetly, "No one would question my disappearance for several hours. But if your late from office to dinner table, Michael might decide you've been kidnapped. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

Atobe gave him a reluctant nod.

"Well then, Shiroi-san. You must excuse us. We wouldn't want Master Keigo to be late for dinner with his mother. Good night."

With Asakura in on the secret, he no longer hassled Atobe about getting rid of Shiroi. As long as he could keep an eye on Shiroi and interrogate him at his discretion, he could assure himself that Shiroi would not pose a danger to Atobe without him knowing about it. Also, since Asakura took over daily checks on Shiroi, Atobe need not make daily visits, reducing the chances of discovery. As compensation, with Asakura covering for him, Atobe could steal some lunch hours and longer time during weekends to spend with Shiroi.

In the months that followed, Shiroi began to adapt and became more independent. Atobe was also getting to know him better. Shiroi, in his mind, grew to be his own person, instead of a strange Tezuka twin.

He no longer thought of Tezuka when he looked at Shiroi. But there were times, when the mysterious disappearance of Tezuka nudged the edges of his consciousness. He found himself paying closer attention to sports news, jumping at the mention of Tezuka's name. There were many Tezukas. It was not an unusual surname in Japan. All the same, he couldn't help being disappointed when they invariable referred to someone else.

Some time in July, Asakura was satisfied that Shiroi could pass as normal with outsiders beyond fix-formatted human interaction, such as paying for goods and asking for service. Once he was sure Shiroi would not accidentally reveal anything inappropriate about Atobe or himself in ignorance, Shiroi was encouraged to make friends on his own. The first person he befriended turned out to be his neighbour.

Shiroi's obvious affection for Atobe assured Asakura that Shiroi's loyalties no longer lay with The Master. He declared that he no longer needed daily surveillance on Shiroi and left the two to their own devices.

"You want to what?" Atobe stopped spooning the curry and rice dinner Shiroi had cooked for him. It was becoming a habit for him to spend part of his weekends at the apartment.

Shiroi turned out to be a good cook and housekeeper. Shiroi was not into decorating. He kept the place spartan in its Zen-like simplicity. It wasn't fancy or indulgent, but it felt comfortable and peaceful here. All the unnecessary details removed. No clutter to cloud and distract the eye. His focus was sharper there than at his own desk. At the same time, there were no constant tension or stress that he felt at his office. He felt free and relaxed there, with only Shiroi for company. If only Shiroi were female and daughter of someone with nine-figured assets. His life would be one degree less complicated.

Last Wednesday, the Atobe patriarch had flown into Tokyo and dropped hints for him to start short-listing the candidates for the mother of his heir. He had be given the list on his 21st birthday. All the eligible marriageable properly-aged women that met his father's criteria. Several names had been crossed out as they marry and became ineligible.

On the other hand, he had been dating a string of women, down to the current one, the second daughter of Michiru Electronics. None of them were capable of maintaining silence for more than five minutes. Then, there was the excitable giggling that set his teeth on edge. Their conversation bored him. The occasional bold temptress might keep his interest for a month longer than usual. He would like just one that could be a little like Shiroi, who had not complained or whined even once in Atobe's hearing.

He didn't mind paying for expensive dates. He did mind wasting time listening to bratty whining about less than perfectly charred lettuce. Send it back, bankrupt the restaurant, fire the chef ... he could and would do all these. He did not like listening to two hours of excruciating detailed retelling of the whole traumatic experience. All that drama, of course, was staged to garner his sympathies. And gaining none of it.

"Find work, Keigo-sama." Shiroi's voice brought him back to the topic of discussion. "Is it all right with Keigo-sama if Shiroi do that?" Shiroi looked nervously at him. "Shimizu-san next door said that's what you do, to make a living."

"It's up to you to decide. I can give you some position in the office if you really want a job." Atobe shrugged. He meant it when he freed Shiroi and told him to live his own life.

"No." Shiroi gasped at his boldness. "Shiroi wants to find something Shiroi can do," he explained hurriedly. He had never asked anything of Keigo-sama. Neither had he ever contradicted anything from Keigo-sama or anyone his his memory. But Asakura-san and Shimizu-san had been filling his head with all kinds of contradictions. Asakura-san even made him practise saying 'No' and disagree with everything Asakura-san said. It was really hard for Shiroi, even when it was just practice.

"Why?" Damn that Asakura for putting ideas into Shiroi's head. Atobe was quite prepared to support Shiroi for a while longer. But Asakura deemed him good enough to be introduced into the workforce.

"Shiroi doesn't want to be a burden to Keigo-sama. Shimizu-san said Shiroi should not depend on Keigo-sama's charity all the time. It's not right for Shiroi to buy presents for Keigo-sama with Keigo-sama's own money." Shiroi covered his mouth and blushed at the slip. He had not meant to tell Keigo-sama that part.

Atobe merely raised an eyebrow. "So that's what this is about. You don't have to worry about something like that."

"Please, Keigo-sama?"

"You don't need to ask my permission. Just do whatever you want," Atobe said curtly. Well, Shiroi was almost, but not quite perfect. He could grow a little more spine. His overly submissive and approval-seeking neediness were not attractive traits to Atobe. Not that Atobe blamed him, considering where Shiroi came from.

"Yes, Keigo-sama. Thank you, Keigo-sama."

Atobe narrowed his gaze at the monotonous reply. "I think a job will be good for you too. You should get out of the house more and make some new friends."

"Yes, Keigo-sama! Thank you, Keigo-sama!"

Much better. Atobe smirked. Shiroi was so easy to please. All he needed to hear was _Keigo-sama's _approval. Which, unfortunately, did not help Atobe's attempt to rehabilitate the boy. He shrugged it off as a problem for another day. A job was still a good step forward for learning to survive in the wild.

* * *

**Respond to Reviewers:**

**Aan** : Atobe (in this fic) will be subjected to Johari Window with known and unknown aspects of his character. He is such a larger than life confident character with high self-esteem that makes him perfect for using this concept to develop his character.

**geecee**: Reviews make me want to write/edit faster. Though without a beta/proof-reader, I usually let a chapter sit for a while before I come back to proof-read. About Atobe, indeed, he needs someone his equal and Shiroi was not it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 5**

Atobe broke up with his current girlfriend. Not that he was surprised or particularly hurt to find her with another man. It gave him a good excuse to break up with her. It would double up as an excuse to stop dating for a while too. Another name to cross off the 'list'. And a rest while he concentrated on several investments projects he'd newly added to his portfolio. Not too long, he didn't any rumours giving the girl more credit than she deserved.

It was early-August on Friday night. Light summer rain gave a reflective sheen to the streets at night. He didn't feel like company. He didn't feel like going home. His parents were currently in residence, which would require him to show up for dinner and have small talk that inevitable turn to his philandering ways. He had sent Asakura and his driver home without him. Shiroi was working, so there was not point going to the apartment.

As he wandered down the wet streets, he found himself going back to the last conversation with the girl. It affected him more than he was willing to admit. Not that he was really in love her. It had been an arrangement of convenience. Perhaps it was because she had entangled him in her mess that had offended him.

She had been using him as excuse to secretly meet her lover. One that her parents did not approve of. That explained why she was not as clingy and eager as the others he had dated. He was miffed, he admitted to himself. If he was going to be accused of ravishing innocent virgins by the parents, he'd prefer to do the ravishing himself before being accused of the crime.

He huffed irritably. Once he had set the trap and caught the couple red-handed, the true confessions came out. Much to the embarrassment of the parental units. He was, of course, generous enough to forgive them and forgo a messy libel-lawsuit in exchange for certain business concessions. That should please his father. He reconsidered his actions for the last few days and shook his head. _"Father should be proud. I've become as cold and manipulative as he wanted me to be."_

"Welcome back, Atobe-sama!" A chirpy voice greeted him. He looked up to find himself at the VIP entrance of one of the hip nightclubs in Shinjuku. A man in tuxedo, top hat and black silk mask held the door open for him. "It's Cosplay Night tonight."

He had not meant to walk this far. He had walked past the bistro he frequented while mulling over the affair that should not have taken more than a moment of his thought. He gave himself a mental shrug. He did not feel like moping alone either. He needed a good stiff drink to chase the black mood away. He handed the man his coat and stepped in.

Atobe was promptly ushered into VIP lounge on the second floor overlooking the dance floor. A waitress in frilly French maid costume took his order. He scanned the floor below. It was full of swaying bodies and explosion of colours. There were a number of interesting costumes. One girl attracted his attention, wearing skin-tight leather and body paint. It would be interesting to peel both off bit by bit.

"Keigo-sama, your scotch on the rocks."

Atobe turned around at the whisper soft voice. "Shiroi? What are you doing here?"

Shiroi was dressed in long white robe-like costume with lilac trimmings. He even had a pair of white feather wings strapped on his back. His long hair was partially braided and powdered white. "I am Yue, from Card Captor Sakura."

Atobe blinked. "This is your new job?"

"Yes, Keigo-sama." Shiroi laughed lightly and twirled once, showing off his costume. "Hakutaki-san choose this one for me. What do you think, Keigo-sama?"

"You look good," Atobe said automatically after years of hearing similarly loaded questions from his mother. Meanwhile, his brain was still trying to process the fact that that Shiroi was standing before him in cosplay. He ought to be ashamed of himself for knowing which girly manga Shiroi was referring to. Akutagawa Jirou had corrupted his brain.

"Thank you, Keigo-sama!" Another brilliant smile followed that. "Do you need anything else, Keigo-sama?"

"Another drink," said Atobe, downing the scotch in one gulp. He had a sudden urge to drag Shiroi away from this noisy place and ridiculous costume that looked so good on him. "_Get a hold of yourself. It's his decision. You promised yourself you won't interfere. He has to learn to take care of himself. Stopping him now would undermine his first step in taking an initiative for himself." _

He heaved a mental sigh as Shiroi left to get him another glass. _"Why a nightclub? Why not some place more respectable? Not that this is a bad club..." _On the other hand, "_Why not? He is not Tezuka. You can't expect him to be Tezuka. You'd proved to yourself he is NOT Tezuka. Tezuka wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this."_

As the loud throbbing music pounded his ears, Atobe laughed to himself imagining Tezuka in such an establishment with his arms crossed, face frowning in disapproval and back stiff as a rod. He would look completely out of place. Shiroi, on the other hand, looked completely at ease. Tezuka wouldn't be caught dead in this kind of place. Most certainly not.

Atobe woke up with a hangover. He sniffed, following the fresh scent of lemon to a tall glass of honeyed lemonade on the bedside. He emptied the glass and sank back into bed, pulling the blanket over his head.

"Good morning, Keigo-sama." The smell of toast and jam sneaked into his hidden corner.

"Coffee," he growled.

"Does Keigo-sama need help waking up?" the voice said lightly. Cloths rustled, followed by slow creak of the bed. Warm skin pressed against his back while cool fingers pressed lightly against his temple.

"Hmm ..." Atobe said. He wouldn't mind waking up with this.

Once he was sated, both figuratively and literally, he slept till late afternoon. Shiroi woke him again just before 4pm. The smell of green tea cleared the vestiges of sleep from his eyes.

"You missed lunch, Keigo-sama," Shiroi said. He placed a bowl of rice with a sprinkling of nori and umeboshi toppings on it. With a deft flick of his wrist, he poured fresh green tea over the rice.

"Ochazuke? How old-fashioned."

"It will make you feel better."

Shiroi was dressed in long black coat. He had his hair braided into a simple long rope. And he had blue eye contacts on. "Going out?"

"I have work tonight. It's the last day for Cosplay Week."

"What are you this time?"

"Umm ...," he said with a slight frown. "Shiro ... Shirogane."

"You went from Angel to Demon? Though, I must say, Shirogane have better taste when it comes to fashion."

"Eh? Keigo-sama knows this Shirogane character?"

"After keeping an eye on Jirou for three-years, I am forced to remember every fictional character plushie that Jirou cuddles to."

"Keigo-sama is such a caring person." Shiroi smiled softly at his saviour.

"Oi! Ore-sama is not caring. Just to be clear. Ore-sama is just looking out for ore-sama's personal interest. Besides, the easiest way to keep Jirou awake during practice is to take away his soft toys." _Or promise to buy him a new one. It was what to buy that caused him most trouble. After all, he had to know which one Jirou wanted badly enough to keep him alert for at least 3 hours._ _Especially on days Sakaki-kantoku showed up for practice and Atobe was busy being captain to play a few sets with him._

"Yes, Keigo-sama." Shiroi grinned mischievously, accepting his explanation without believing a word. He was really getting bolder and more self-assured. Shiroi finished his preparations, putting on a black top hat and white gloves to match.

Atobe blinked at him. "Shirogane's costume suits you much better," he said as he handed him Shirogane's cane.

* * *

**Response to Reviewers:**  
Wow! Such long reviews! I feel so loved!

You guys are jumping ahead too fast for me. Some of those questions are Chapter 10, or sooner if I combine chapters in the final edit. I try to make each chapter ~2k words in length. Anyway, I'll try to address the questions without giving too much away.

Why didn't Atobe track/contact Tezuka's family? There are several reasons. First, subconsciously, he did not want an answer (Ch 3). Also, he did not want to draw attention with multiple and in-depth searches of same person via company resources (Ch 3). Atobe in Hyoutei and among Jr. High students is a big fish in a small pond. Atobe in adult world with other Atobe(s) is a medium fish in an ocean. Atobe is also not close enough to Tezuka to know his family, being in different school and different Ward. Ward-wise, Seigaku and Hyoutei met during Tokyo Prefecture (all the schools in each Ward in Tokyo). Contrast to Fudoumine in first tournament. That means Fudoumine is closer to Seigaku, same Ward. They can bump into each other while walking around (eg. Ann, Kamio, Ibu, Gyuokurin). Hyoutei, in different Ward, have to go out of their way to meet Seigaku players. Besides, Atobe had 'mostly' convinced himself that Shiroi is not Tezuka (Ch 3). Hmm ... this means I haven't explained it properly in the last 2 chapters. Some hint to address Atobe's lack of action... Atobe will have to try to contact Tezuka's family eventually. I'll let him tell you how he well he did.

geecee: Glad you liked Asakura scenes. I'm nervous when OCs take large sections of text. But I need a voice of reason for Atobe's insanity. Even Shiroi is OC-like, or anti-Tezuka. I have to balance Tezuka's textual presence vs his actual 'missing in action'.

Aan: Atobe is a complex person, isn't he? My analysis of him would be longer than this chapter. Hahaha! Atobe's thought - Atobe was actually thinking of himself being the 'asset'. In Jungian Psych, this is his father 'complex'. It's a sub-plot that may or may not develop, because it is sort of spin-off and off-topic to Shiroi's story. Like his relationship with Asakura and his family. It hinted that he strongly identified with Shiroi, despite differences in socio-economic status. Which provides the motivation for him to act 'against his better judgement' for Shiroi. The act of freeing Shiroi is a symbolic emancipation from his own prison.

I'm glad you caught bits of Tezuka's trait in Shiroi. It makes me very happy when someone notices the 'Easter eggs'.

**Note:**  
1. Shiroi's first costume is **Yue**, from Card Capture Sakura. Yue is an angel-lookalike moon-guardian of Clow Cards.  
2. Shiroi's second costume is **Shirogane**, from Monochrome Factor. Shirogane was one of the Kings of Shadow World. Technically, he is not a Demon or evil per se. But Atobe did not read the manga. He just flip them to find the ones Jirou wanted. That's what he kept telling himself anyway. His voice actor is Suwabe Junichi, same as Atobe.


	6. Chapter 6

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 6**

"Good evening, Master Keigo." Asakura greeted him seriously at the door.

Atobe gave him a sour look. "Car?"

"Waiting for you downstairs."

"Father?"

"At the Ballroom, playing host. Not happy you skipped out on dinner and didn't come home last night. Will be unhappier if you are absent tonight."

"Grandfather?"

"Arrived safely this morning, currently humiliating men half his age at fencing."

"Mother?"

"You don't want to know. She found out about your latest break up. My advice is to put on your dancing shoes for the rest of the evening and avoid the solarium like a plague."

"Hmph." His whole family, extended family and business associates. All of them congregating in Tokyo for the Grand Ball, Atobe mused. By the time he reached Atobe Mansion, the entire circus would be there to plot, gossip and match-make.

Seeing that Atobe did not intend to elaborate further, Asakura continued, "I, however, am very happy Master Keigo is considerate enough to get drunk in one place that has your personal courier to cart you home. Maybe adopting Shiroi was not such a bad idea. After all, it would jeopardise my pay check if you were found in a back alley."

"Ore-sama didn't ask about you. Clothes."

"Here you go." Asakura handed over Atobe's suit to him.

Atobe disappeared into the bathroom. "Story?"

"After you left the office, you went to check on the Yaruizawa cottage to make sure the place is ready for your parents' holiday stay tomorrow. You decided to stay the night, since it was late. I took the liberty of sending the Jag out and messing your room up in the cottage for the maids to clean when they come in. You can count on the maids to gossip and corroborate your story. Is Keigo-sama pleased?"

Atobe came out with bow tie undone. He gave Asakura a long look. "Stop imitating Shiroi." Then, Asakura's previous statement caught up with him. "You knew where I was all night?"

"Of course." Asakura tied the bow for him. "You know I would do my best to keep my resume spotless. Having a dead employer is bad for my future career advancement."

Atobe simply held out his hand. Asakura dropped the Jaguar keys into his hand. "Kenichi asked me to remind you to go easy on the accelerator. He just modded a new fuel injection system."

Atobe gave him another pointed look.

Asakura sighed. "Yes, I enjoyed taking your cars out for a joy ride at 2am in the morning from Tokyo to Yoruizawa and back when I should be sleeping in a nice warm bed," he said sarcastically. "The things I do for you, Master Keigo."

"Hmph," huffed Atobe eloquently.

"It's the smoothest ride I've ever driven. So, for my peace of mind, please keep an eye on the speedometer. It's too easy to over-speed in that car. Just a touch on the pedal is enough. Any more and you'd be crashing into a building opposite the road before you can blink."

"That Kenichi ... it's about time he file patents for the mods on the Jaguar."

"He said he wanted you to test them out first, to make sure it's perfectly up to your standards."

"Lazy bum," grumbled Atobe. He tapped into his PDA, _To Ayako: Start Kenichi patent Jag suspension sys post haste._ Then he took a delicate sniff. "Hand it over, now!"

Asakura shook his head in amazement. "I don't know how you can smell that through 2 layers of metal thermos and air-tight insulation bag." He took out a silver flask and passed it to Atobe.

Atobe did not deign to answer. He unscrewed the cap and took an appreciative sniff at the aroma of coffee, with a hint of cinnamon and blueberries.

"Michael-san spoilt you too much, you know that?" Asakura said. "_'Here's Master Keigo's coffee and Master Keigo's suit. Give them to him before he comes home'. Don't forget to tie Master Keigo's bow exactly the way I showed you,_" he imitated Atobe's butler. "I forgot you're not quite human before your coffee. How he knew I was going to fetch you, I'll never know. I've been in and out of the mansion all night and all day long. The old man must be psychic."

Equilibrium restored, Atobe raised an eyebrow. "It's the least expected of Ore-sama's staff. You're still not quite up to Michael's level yet." He handed the empty flask and the apartment keys to Asakura. "Clean up and lock up." Then, he breezed through the door, the picture perfect Atobe Keigo.

Asakura took a peek at the bathroom and sighed. "The things I do for you, Keigo-sama ..."

The next morning, Shiroi opened the door to find Asakura in the mid-stroke of knocking on his door. While Atobe simply let himself in, Asakura would always politely knock. Even when Shiroi knew he could get in, with or without a key.

"Good morning, Asakura-san," said Shiroi, smiling brightly at the man.

"Good morning, Shiroi-san. Ah, you're on your way out. I won't take long."

"Would you like to come in?"

"No, I just wanted to pass a message. Master Keigo will be busy this whole week, so he would not be able to visit. His grandfather is in Tokyo to re-negotiate a 20-year business partnership and Master Keigo will be a key person in drafting the terms of engagement."

"Ah, thank you for coming all the way here to tell me, Asakura-san. It's good to see you again," said Shiroi.

Asakura nodded. It had been awhile since Shiroi had seen him. He, on the other hand, had seen Shiroi on and off when he shadowed Atobe. He shrugged and thought maybe it was time to see how well Atobe's project was progressing and see if it was time to suggest to Atobe that his personal project was 'completed' and stop this cloak and dagger charade. Then again, knowing Atobe, he probably enjoyed himself too much, being all secretive, to want to end this project in a hurry.

It was not his place to judge his boss' quirks. But Asakura suspected Atobe sent him on this errand instead of using the modern miracle called a telephone to annoy him. Atobe was surprisingly fond of his paternal grandfather. He knew Atobe wanted to get rid of him for a few hours so he would not be smirking in the background at how earnest and child-like Atobe could be in his grandfather company.

He had been with Atobe for several years now, and still, the contrast never ceased to amaze him. Whenever Atobe was with his 'Otousan', he was tensed and guarded, suspicious to the point of paranoia. But when Atobe was with his grandfather, he immediately relaxed. He had never seen Atobe genuinely happy or even allowed himself moments of open vulnerability except in the presence of his 'Pappous'. What little he deduced from a very taciturn Michael, he figured Atobe spent most of his early childhood with his grandfather with a mostly absent father.

Atobe's fluency in Greek, Latin and German were direct influence from his Pappous and his Greek grandmother. When Asakura first met Atobe Keigo, he had been surprised that he could not place the nationality and ethnicity of the man. As one of the best undercover agents, he had been trained to identify the country and general background of anyone he met based on physical appearance and speech patterns.

Atobe had looked generally East Asian, but with hint of Grecian profile. He spoke Japanese to Asakura, because Asakura was also Japanese, with ease and fluency. His English, when he spoke to his lawyer, was not American, but distinctly British; Oxford accent with a few words giving away his London-based upbringing. Atobe had smirked when he caught Asakura's surprise. He knew Asakura had expected him to speak with a Japanese accent, or even an American one, since they had met in New York. At that time, given that he wasn't at his best after several weeks of incarceration, he could only conclude that whomever Atobe was, he was far from home.

In the end, Atobe completely destroyed Asakura's neatly pigeon-holed world. Atobe was too fluid, changeable. He had no real home that he identified with. London was his childhood playground. But by the time he was 11, he had spent part of his youth in Athens, Berlin, Paris, LA, Sao Paulo and many more places than Asakura found out about. Whatever roots meant to anyone, Atobe did not have it. He had been uprooted too many times. So he set out to make the world his home, to plant his own roots.

He was a consummate actor. He could be anything and anyone. All his posturings and every single word carefully choreographed, neither lies nor truth, but something in between. Something malleable to fit whatever role it needed to play. When Asakura thought he finally understood Atobe Keigo, he found that he had only perceived a single thread in a complex tapestry that was Atobe Keigo. Because Atobe Keigo would never allow anyone to apprehend him in his entirety. Not even himself.

It was rare for Atobe to have the opportunity to work along side the one man he truly respected and loved. So, Asakura decided to be generous and let Atobe enjoy his time. After all, Atobe Keita's security detail would ensure his Master Keigo's well-being as the Atobe heir.

"If it's all right with you, Shiroi-san, I would like to accompany you," said Asakura.

"Shiroi is going shopping, Asakura-san. Shiroi would be happy for Asakura-san to join Shiroi. Thank you."

Asakura nodded. Then, he added, with a hint of pride, "You're doing very well, Shiroi." Shiroi beamed happily at him.

Asakura followed Shiroi to the bus stop. Shiroi carefully counted his coins for the bus fare. He had coins in both fists. He greeted and chatted with the driver. He put one fistful of coins into the box and said, "For Shiroi." Then he put the other fistful and said, "For Asakura-san."

At the mall, Asakura let Shiroi lead the way, taking careful note of people's reaction to Shiroi. Housewives shook their heads at his long hair and whispered comments about the young generations these days. School girls stared at him in admiration, blushed and giggled as he walked past. They speculated if Shiroi was an artist or a famous model in disguise.

Old grannies greeted him cheerfully and commented to themselves how rare to find a polite young man. Young men and women sighed in envy. Not only Shiroi looked like a pop idol, he dressed like one too. Asakura noticed Atobe liked to dress Shiroi in his favourite street fashion designer labels.

Shiroi stood out all right. But in a place like Harajuku, it was expected for the denizens to be seen, to stand out, to be fashionably hip and outlandish. He had to admire Atobe's thoughtless but perfect choice in placing Shiroi close to Harajuku, located between Shibuya and Shinjuku. Shiroi would look out of place in most parts of Japan, but he would fit perfectly in the fashion hub of Tokyo.

Shiroi let Asakura to the grocery section. He had a list of items, ticking each off as he picked up fruits and vegetables, a few spices and a bag of rice. When Asakura first introduced shopping malls and supermarkets to Shiroi, he had been a little apprehensive himself. Aside from the occasional cup noodle, he had never actually cooked anything, much less buy fresh ingredients. Most of his meals were from Atobe Mansion's kitchens, served in the staff mess hall or packed into bento boxes when he was out on the field.

Fortunately, Shiroi knew how to cook, but had never bought the ingredients himself. So Asakura only needed to show him where to find the things he needed and suggested Shiroi prepare a shopping list before going out.

When Shiroi bypassed the meat section for the fifth time, Asakura looked curiously at his list. Shiroi had written down "_Apples, Beef, Carrot, Chicken, Lettuce, Milk, Pineapple, Pork, Pumpkin, Rice, Thyme, Wine ..._". He had been following the list faithfully, picking up item by item in alphabetical order. Never mind that Apples was next to Pineapple, he would cross from one section to another looking for a particular item. Well, it worked well enough, so Asakura shrugged and let it be.

When Shiroi passed the meat section again, skipping Pork for Pumpkin, Asakura decided to stop him. He asked Shiroi why he skipped all meat items on his list.

Shiroi smiled. "Keigo-sama is not coming this week. There is no need for Shiroi to buy these things."

"What about yourself?" Then he thought maybe he'd been making wrong assumptions about Shiroi. "Sorry, you are vegetarian?"

Shiroi shook his head. "No. Shiroi don't eat meat or drink alcohol unless Shiroi has to."

"Oh. If you don't like them, you don't have to buy them for Master Keigo. He gets plenty of those at home."

"Shiroi don't mind. Shiroi don't eat meat because they make Shiroi taste bad."

"Eh?" Asakura wondered if he heard wrongly.

"Shiroi cannot eat meat, or asparagus or onion or garlic or cheese." He ticked off his fingers. "Must not smoke or drink coffee or alcohol. Not unless it pleases the patron. Then Shiroi have to water fast until Shiroi taste right again."

"Eh?" said Asakura intelligently. He understood all the words, but not a single shred of meaning. Water fast? "Taste? What taste?"

"Shiroi's skin and Shiroi's cum. Shiroi must always smell good and taste good."

"Oh." Asakura turned tomato red. He wished he had not asked.

Shiroi picked up a pineapple. "This makes Shiroi taste sweet and refreshing. Keigo-sama liked ... mmph ..."

Asakura covered Shiroi's mouth hurriedly. "It's better if you don't tell me that," he said hurriedly in the brink of information overload. "Iiikk!"He gave a cut off squeak and quickly removed his hand. No, he did not want to know nor speculate if Shiroi's just licked his palm.

Maybe there were a few more things he had to teach Shiroi. Like appropriate and extremely inappropriate topics of conversation. And the all important lesson that little white lies makes the world go round smoothly and blissfully ignorant.

First, he needed to get them back to Shiroi's apartment, to the most sound proofed room in the building to have a little chat. Scratch that. First, he needed a good stiff drink and and a locked well-padded room for a complete mental meltdown followed by implosion. Then, maybe, he would be able to sound calm and coherent again.

* Pappous (pronounced pah-poo) = Grandfather in Greek

I try to update once a week, especially since I have pre-written parts. No update next week tho' since I'll be away for CNY. So, you guys get an earlier update today.

**Response to Reviewers:**  
**Aan: **Ohohoho! I guess I have been up really late, proofing and editing. _What clothes Shiroi wears at home?_Just normal buttoned shirt and pants during day time, nemaki-yukata or bday-suit for sleeping. Of course, Atobe likes to buy clothes and dress him, so you can imagine Atobe's unique fashion sense on the poor guy when His Ore-sama-ness is feeling playful. Well, I don't know about happy ending, but I can say it's not a bad/sad one either. Since I've pretty much revealed part of the later plot in MBW, he will end up in therapy at some point.

Glad you liked 'Love is like Tennis'. It's actually my first attempt at BL. And it's supposed to be my first attempt at smut, but it was a complete failure in that direction. I can plot it, but I can't write it. I'm like Tezuka. I want to hide under my bed in mortification!

**geecee:** Bingo on Shiroi in host club. I actually thought long and hard about where to put him, considering his specialisation and lack of general skills. Short of red-light district, that's one place that might close one eye on his lack of ID. There's no way Atobe would tolerate Shiroi with another pimp. Yeah, I know what you mean about the seiyuu. Okiayu's deep voice characters are my favs, but they always get so little screen time and lines. His lighter voiced characters (Clannad, Miracle Train, Fruit Basket) were crazy fun and it's unbelievable they were voiced by the same person. Haven't heard/seen his BL drama unless you count Gakuen Heaven, which again, he was totally awesome. He seems to get a lot of stoic leader characters. After I read your review, I actually checked Bleach FF for Byakuya/Grimmjow, thinking 'nah ... they don't even appear in the same episodes'. I know they are both No.6 and the prettiest in Espada/Gotei-13, but wow! I guess we really can find anything in Internet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 7**

Shiroi took a deep breath. It was good to see the sun again after two days of constant downpour and strong winds. The sky looked a clear fresh blue. Raindrops on the leaves gave a sparkle to the trees lining the street.

It was September month end and pay day. He shivered with the thought of it, a forbidden thought. It always made him guilty and excited at the same time. Having his own money. Buying something with his own money. His own. His whim. Himself. His. Not The Master's. Not Keigo-sama's. But Shiroi's own self.

Master would have punished him for having such thoughts. Shiroi never owned anything. Not the clothes he wore, not the food ate. Not his own body. Not even his name. Even now, his home, his food and clothes – everything was paid by Keigo-sama.

On the other hand, Keigo-sama had given so much to Shiroi, starting with Shiroi's person. Shiroi had difficulty understanding what Keigo-sama meant by freedom. Keigo-sama said it meant he was his own self and he gets his own things. But Asakura-san had said it was taking responsibility for himself and making his own decisions. It meant the right to refuse or disagree.

Keigo-sama was a very different master from The Master. Even when he wanted sex with Shiroi, he always asked for Shiroi's consent. Not in so many words, but Shiroi had served enough patrons to read the lingering look and faintest of touch. When The Master wanted him, he was summoned. It did not matter when or where or how or who, Shiroi must always be ready to please and pleasure. When The Master wanted Shiroi to lure a particular man, it was Shiroi's task to seduce the man until he gave in to his lust and took Shiroi. Many of them became his regular patron. Some of the others had been jealous of Shiroi's success. After all, he had never failed to seduce his target or to pleasure them long and hard.

Not even Atobe Keigo, who had thwarted several others that The Master had sent his way. He smiled at the thought. Despite Keigo-sama's well-known promiscuity, he was known in Flower Town as a man with very selective and discerning taste. He was rarely seen in pleasure district except as a haughty reluctant guest of the powerful. Until Shiroi was sent to him directly, none of the Dolls had caught his interest or came close to earning his patronage.

Despite being an indulgent and easy master, Keigo-sama had a lot of stamina and was demanding in his own way. He had broken The Master's minimum criteria for his Dolls by several times over. Enough that he had probably broken some of Shiroi's records. By length of time, number of times, number of variations, level of creativity ... except the level of cruelty. Keigo-sama was too gentle a lover to go that far. Too gentle and considerate, even for Shiroi's limited experience. Thankfully limited, for The Master considered Shiroi too delicate and valuable to be used roughly. His patrons were always carefully selected so he would not be damaged.

He frowned at that thought. Keigo-sama had not even once sent Shiroi to other men. He had kept Shiroi to himself. When Asakura-san told Shiroi he should learn to say 'no' to Keigo-sama, Shiroi smiled and shook his head. He could never say 'no'. He did not want to. In fact, thinking of Keigo-sama's gentle hands and dominating kisses, he himself was naughtily encouraging Keigo-sama's interest.

He wanted to please Keigo-sama as much as he can, in the only way he knew best, for as long as he could. He knew their arrangement was temporary. Shiroi did not belong in Keigo-sama's world, all bright and wide open and beautiful. Shiroi belonged in the shadow world of walled gardens, hidden rooms and secret nights. Eventually, Keigo-sama would leave him and Shiroi would be no more than a wisp of memory.

He did promise Asakura-san to try his best to say 'no' to other people. Especially to people who try to sell him things he did not want. It was really hard for him to refuse. He had been conditioned all his life to comply. It was easier when Asakura-san told him those people are trying to get his money. Since his money came from Keigo-sama, it was like they were trying to steal Keigo-sama's money.

The next salesman that tried to sell him an encyclopaedia got him so stressed out he yelled, "You can't steal Keigo-sama's money! Go away!" And slammed the door in his face.

Asakura-san, who was in the house watching how Shiroi would perform, fell off his chair. Shiroi was sorry after that. He knew he wasn't supposed to say that out loud, but the man was so persistent, he grew panicky and just wanted the man to stop talking and go away. When Shiroi told him, Keigo-sama laughed and laughed and poked fun at Asakura-san childishly. Shiroi felt better after that. Keigo-sama rarely laughed, but if he did, it was okay. It was okay if Shiroi made mistakes that made him laugh.

It was different when Shiroi was at work. Asakura-san wasn't there for 'moral support', ready take charge if Shiroi fell apart. Shiroi knew he was attractive and he was attracting attention he did not want. But service and seduction had always been one and the same to him, as he was trained. The angle of his arm and turn of his wrist, his posture and body language, the stretch of neck and line of shoulder, the eye-contact and shy lowering of his lashes, the flirting glances and barest hint of smile. He had unconsciously seduced the customers as he served them. The manager was pleased because he had turned several one-time customer into regulars. But he had been doing too well, looking at the way they were responding to him. He didn't want to, but he could not stop himself.

When the customers at the club eyed him hungrily, he did his best to pretend he didn't notice, so he did not have to refuse them. Because Asakura-san did not like Shiroi going with other men. It made him nervous and uncomfortable. Keigo-sama never said anything like that, though Shiroi knew he did not care for it either. He just told Shiroi to be careful and that he trusted Shiroi to pick only the good clean healthy ones. Only he said it in a tone like Shiroi was picking vegetables, not sex partners.

The women were easier to reject. Shiroi was an exclusively male courtesan. He was not allowed to entertain women. But if the male customers asked him directly, he could not refuse. He would go to them after work. Except when he knew Keigo-sama was visiting him. Then it was easiest for Shiroi would politely decline. Because Keigo-sama took priority over everyone else. Because Keigo-sama was different and special. Because he loved Keigo-sama more than anyone, even when he did not understand what love was.

Sometimes, Keigo-sama would say, "_Think for yourself, Shiroi. Make up your own mind. Choose what is best for you. No one is going to do it for you._"

No one had said such things to Shiroi before. Shiroi was not allowed to think for himself. Only to think of other people. To anticipate their needs and to see to them before it was noticed. Keigo-sama's words made him warm all over and shivery at the same time. He hoarded it as his special memory. He had so few of them. Not like the Other, who remembered the time before Shiroi was born.

Shiroi frowned at the thought. Thinking about the Other always make him restless. The Other was even more restless when Shiroi first met Keigo-sama. But he had strangely became quiescent since Shiroi had grown comfortable with Keigo-sama. Keigo-sama had not spoken the Other's name since that fateful night. Perhaps, the Other no longer sensed any threat or danger, both to Shiroi and to Keigo-sama. The Other seemed content to remain asleep and dormant. He turned into the club happily, thinking of what present would be suitable for his Keigo-sama.

Shiroi missed seeing Keigo-sama that week, since it was Keigo-sama's birthday week and his family had flown to Europe for one-week celebrations, ending on his actual birthday on the 4th of October. Keigo-sama had told him he would come back to Tokyo and visit Shiroi on the 7th and Shiroi looked forward to welcome him back properly. Shiroi frowned at the thought of birthdays. He knew everyone has one, but he could not answer when Keigo-sama asked him. Shiroi did not know his birthday or even his own age. He suspected the Other knew, but he was afraid to stir the sleeping darkness.

The club was busy that night. One company had booked the whole club for a celebration. All the waiters were kept busy with constant flow of alcohol and finger food. The karaoke box had been going non-stop when there was a sudden lull. Half-drunken calls started up. Suddenly, a slender young man with brown hair was pushed on to stage good-naturedly.

Shiroi felt someone staring at him. It was not unusual for him to be stared at, or propositioned at work. But this stare was different. It frightened him. The voice of the singer unnerved him. His hands shook and rattled the empty glasses on his tray. He shook his head. It was unacceptable to rattle or break any of the glassware. He hurried back to the kitchen for more food and drinks.

"So, this is where you've been hiding," a soft voice stopped him just as he came out from the swinging door.

He came face to face with the previous singer. At close range, his blue eyes was even more intense and piercing. Shiroi dipped his head to cover up his confusion. "May I take your orders, sir?"

The man narrowed his eyes. "Tezuka?"

Shiroi's eyes widened in shock. He couldn't stop his eyes from darting around the room, expecting one of The Master's men to suddenly appear. Nothing happened. Reality resumed, human voices mingled with the clinking of glass. "I'm sorry, there is no Tezuka here."

The man blinked and smiled amiable. "Ah, sorry. You reminded me of someone I knew." He watched as Shiroi hurried back to the kitchen. He had not missed Shiroi's moment of panic.

Shiroi felt his knees turn to jelly. He leaned against the kitchen wall, barely upright. He did not know the man that had spoken to him. Was he someone from the past? Someone that the Other knew? Shiroi was relieved that the man did not speak to him again for the rest of the night. He carefully avoided serving his table.

Two days later, Shiroi accepted a date. With Keigo-sama being away for so long, the pressure of his conditioning had build up. But the man that waited for him in the appointed hotel room at the prearranged time was not Maki-san, the man that made the booking. It was the man that spoke Tezuka's name.

He ushered Shiroi in with a smile and locked the door behind him. Shiroi had never felt so nervous with a patron before.

"I'm sorry for this deception. Maki-san said the appointment is for two hours and that means I have two hours of your undivided attention, right?" The man's voice was whispery soft.

Shiroi swallowed his nervousness and nodded slowly. "Do you have any preference?"

"Ah ... no. I just want to talk in private. Please sit down." He took the seat at the desk, gesturing Shiroi to the bed. "My name is Fuji. Fuji Syuusuke."

* * *

First, we had Atobe, then Asakura, and now Shiroi's perspective. Phew! A long soliloquy from Shiroi, which I hope would answer some questions and give more revelations to Shiroi's background. Second clue to Shiroi/Tezuka's condition and a new character has entered the stage.

**Response to Reviewers:**

**jadeskye79** : Thanks! I'm relieved that part turned out well.

**Aan**: I should thank you for last chapter. The readers should thank you for asking more about Asakura and Shiroi, because I ended up expanding it into its own chapter and did not leave you guys with this cliffhanger (which I originally intended) over the long holiday. Poor Asakura indeed. Glad you liked it.

**geecee**: I forgot to mention last review that I agree about a story where everyone is gay. It can become unrealistic and too forced. Personally, I prefer a mix of straight, homo and bi – but PoT fandom has very few of these. Atobe for some reason strikes me as a bi, at least in my head. Hehe … Poor Asakura isn't just looking out for Atobe's physically, he had to take care of Atobe's secrets, reputation and social standing too. Atobe sure knows how to pick his man.

Thanks for the Anima Mundi heads up! I wiki'ed it. OMG! The VA cast is like a dream cast. Tezuka, Atobe, Mizuki, SaiMono's Seiran, 12 Kingdom's Keiki, Yue/Yukito/Halibel's Megumi Ogata.


	8. Chapter 8

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 8 : Fuji Syuusuke**

"What ... what can Shiroi do for you, Fuji-san?"

Fuji was staring at Shiroi again. "Who are you?"

Shiroi was taken aback. "Shiroi. My name is Shiroi, Fuji-san. I don't normally get asked to talk, Fuji-san."

"Saa ... you normally ... ah ..." Fuji gestured vaguely in Shiroi's direction.

Maki-san thought he was giving his kohai an introduction into _men's _world. But Fuji had no intention in that direction. He just hoped the rumour would not make it back to his girlfriend or he would seriously be in the doghouse. He suspected his sexual orientation was about to become a hotly debated topic around the office. Again. It was hard enough to convince people he was straight. With his feminine face, the clothes his sister insisted on buying for him and the company that he works for; it was an uphill battle. Although, it was expected, considering the publishing company that produces Interior Design and Fashion magazines had about 20% staff who were self-confessed homosexuals or bisexuals.

Now was not the time to get distracted. He reminded himself of his objective. He wanted to see Shiroi for himself. He wanted to prove that it was, simply and clearly, a mistaken identity. That it was not Tezuka. Besides, Shiroi's features and body contours had potential as a model. So it was partly scouting for work too.

Seeing that Fuji did not say anything further or make any move to touch him, Shiroi started to strip himself. This, at least, he understood. It was familiar ground.

Fuji gulped as he watched Shiroi undressed. He had to remind himself that he there was nothing unusual about watching another man take off his shirt. He had seen it everyday for nine years in school locker rooms. Although he did not quite remember anyone taking their shirt off quite so erotically.

The deep hollow at the base of Shiroi's throat flashed tantalisingly as he unbuttoned his shirt. The motion flipped his shirt collar back and forth, playing peekaboo with Fuji's vision. It was mesmerising. By the time he reached half way down, the edges of his collarbone began to show. The prominent bones and curved slope played with light and shadow, slowing unveiling in the widening gap.

Fuji licked his lips wondering what it would be like to taste the shadowed hollow with his tongue and trace the bony slop with his lips. He caught himself just as he was about to reach out to touch Shiroi. His eyes widened in shock as he realised where his mind had been going. He gave himself a good mental shake. He should be thinking about how good that angle would look on a cover page instead. He told himself he'd spent too much time with the regular make-up artists that good-naturedly tried to convince him a boyfriend is more fun than a girlfriend.

"_Get your head out of the gutter and get back to business!"_ he scolded himself.

When Shiroi started unzipping his pants, Fuji quickly told him to stop. Shiroi waited patiently, wondering what the pink-coloured Fuji-san was up to next. He could feel a pressure building at the back of his head. The Other was getting restless. Even more restless than when he first met Keigo-sama. He hoped he could suppress the Other for two hours. The edges of his vision was turning black. It was not a good sign.

Fuji tried to remember some identifying mark on Tezuka. Eight years was a long time to remember such small details. He remembered Eiji had a small crescent-shaped scar on his left elbow when he fell down in first year. Yuuta, other than the cross-shaped scar on his forehead, had a birthmark on his lower back. Tezuka did not have any scars or birthmark, as far as he could recall. And if Tezuka had a tattoo, he had hidden it somewhere impossible to be seen even in a communal bath and onsen. Shiroi's smooth clear skin did not give him any clues either. He wished he had kept in touch with Inui. Inui would have remembered something like that. Or Oishi.

That reminded him of Oishi's first year hairstyle. It was closely shaved on bottom three quarter of his head, while the top part was left long and unruly, like one of Yumiko's troll-dolls. Their year mates had sniggered behind his back at his odd hairstyle. It got so bad, Oishi disappeared every recess from their lunch group. A week later, Tezuka had sported similar cut, though he only shaved a narrower two-inch band off the back. The whispers and mockings stopped immediately.

It always fascinated Fuji how Tezuka could get his point across without uttering a single word. Even in his first year, Tezuka was intimidating enough that no one wanted to get on the bad side of Class 1-1 monitor. Fuji was in a different class, so he had only heard rumours of how Tezuka ruled over those first year students. In Tennis Club, Tezuka had a locker shelf space next to Fuji that year. For two months, until his hair grew back, Fuji had an eyeful of Tezuka's mole located at the back of his head, just above his hairline.

Shiroi was surprised when Fuji-san suddenly grabbed his braid and pulled his hair up. He could feel Fuji-san's fingers rooting around at the base of his head. A finger traced the long scar on the left side that was hidden by his hair. It seemed to rouse the Other. He felt the Other pushing against him, trying to emerge. A chill ran through him when the probing suddenly stopped. Fuji-san had found what he was looking for.

"Tezuka!" half-strangled gasp escaped Fuji. There was the mole. Surely no two person who looked alike would have a mole on the same place.

Shiroi pushed Fuji away in panic at hearing Fuji called Tezuka again. His vision flickered. He felt nauseous as he felt consciousness slipping from him. He fumbled for his shirt and stumbled out of the room. He had to get away from Fuji-san before the Other emerged. Something irreversible always happened when the Other was involved. The most recent being Shiroi changing hands from The Master to Keigo-sama and having his entire life turned upside-down.

He sprinted towards the staircase. He could hear Fuji-san calling him back. No, not him. He was calling Tezuka. And the Other was responding. He would be punished for disobeying a patron, but he could not stop. Bad things would happen. There would be worse punishment for Shiroi if the Other came out.

Shiroi did not know how long he had ran blindly through the streets. He was completely lost when he collapsed on a park bench. Slowly, as he calmed down, the pressure in his head receded. He can't let Fuji-san find him again. The Other's reaction to Fuji-san was even stronger that to Keigo-sama. If Fuji-san surprised him again, he would lose control of the Other. He had to make sure that Fuji-san would never find him again.

He pulled out a little blue notebook and flipped through the pages. The edges were wet. He suddenly noticed the ground was wet and he was soaked and shivering in the cold. He had not even noticed the rain in his panic. A few drops fell on the paper. He hurriedly wiped them off and ran for shelter. He curled up under an overhead pass, wet and cold. He felt miserable and lonely and scared. This freedom thing was not as wonderful or easy as it looked. Even though Keigo-sama and Ayako-san and Asakura-san made it look really simple and easy.

When he belonged to The Master, he was always escorted from one place to another. He was no allowed to be rained on or go outside the grounds all by himself. He was especially not allowed to be lost. Because Shiroi cost more than the expensive silks and jewellery he wore. As much as a big house. Not that Shiroi knew how much a house cost. But the guard who told him said it was more than he could imagine. So Shiroi must not lose himself or allowed himself to be lost.

He had never been lost before, not until Ayako-san tried to teach him how to use buses. He was so frightened and panicked when he realised he did not know how to go back to Keigo-sama. Ayako-san had to take his notebook and wrote in big letters _What to do if Shiroi got lost_ and showed it to him before he calmed down.

He opened the page Ayako-san wrote for him. _Call Atobe Keigo (xxxxxxxxx)_. But Keigo-sama was away. _Next, find a taxi or call one_. Asakura-san had added a list of numbers for Shiroi to call next to Ayako-san's graceful handwriting. He could do this, he told himself. He took out the mobile phone Keigo-sama gave him. The screen flickered then went black with an acrid sizzle. His precious phone. From beloved Keigo-sama. His breath hitched. He covered his face with his hands and burst into tears.

-  
Broken Wings Part 9

On sixth of October, Atobe Keigo came back to Japan sporting a beautiful tan and a dozen crates of Italian wines. There were wines for his staff and special vintages for select clients.

The next day, he brought a bottle of champagne to Shiroi's apartment. As he let himself in, he was surprised to find the place empty. He had specifically told Shiroi he would visit on the seventh.

The place felt more than just empty. He had just set the bottle into an ice bucket when he noticed something odd about the room. The flowers on the dining table were wilted. He opened the fridge again. Even the fruits and vegetables in it did not look fresh. Milk was past expiry too. He knew Shiroi was fastidious about the kitchen.

He walked to the bedroom. Everything was neat and tidy as usual, but it felt cold. He had expected Shiroi to be home, but something felt wrong. He took out his phone to call Shiroi. All he got was no signal when a knock interrupted him.

He opened the door. "Lost your keys ...?"

"Atobe Keigo?"

That voice and that face ... "Seishun Gakuen's Fuji?" He had forgotten Fuji's given name, whatever it was.

Fuji nodded, pushing his way in. "Where is Tezuka?"

"What? What are you doing here? How did you get this address?"

"The club manager ... He finally told me when Shiroi did not turn up for work."

"What have you done to Shiroi?" Atobe demanded.

"He is Tezuka, Atobe. Can't you see it?"

"He is not Tezuka! You're mistaken, just because they look alike. What did you do to make him run away?"

"Run away? I ... I'm too late. But Atobe, it is Tezuka. It really is Tezuka."

"No. Shiroi is nothing like Tezuka. He is right-handed. And he can't even swing a racquet."

"Tennis? Is that all you care about Tezuka?" Fuji shouted angrily. "Bastard! You've been hiding him all this while. Why won't ..."

Atobe rarely resorted to physical violence. But Fuji had it coming. "What did you do to him?" He balled his fist, ready to punch Fuji again if he started babbling.

Asakura appeared behind Fuji in a flash. "Shall I evict him?" He had Fuji's arms pinned behind his back.

Atobe shook his head. With a tilt of his head, he dismissed Asakura.

Fuji merely rubbed his reddening cheek and slumped into a sofa. "I ... I saw him at a club. At first, I didn't believe it too. How? Why? What is Tezuka doing in Japan? Why does he prostitute himself? Tezuka ... Tezuka would never do something like that. But he was ... is ... I don't know. I don't know anything." Fuji rubbed his eyes tiredly. "He doesn't even know me. He doesn't even know me."

Atobe poured two glasses and passed one to Fuji. "Happy birthday, Tezuka," he said ironically as he raised his glass. He noted Fuji's surprise. "Forgot his birthday, didn't you?"

"Yes," Fuji answered morosely. "I haven't been a good friend."

"I don't think Tezuka is someone who could forget his team mates so easily. Isn't it more likely that you had been mistaken?"

"No, I have proof. He is Tezuka," said Fuji. At Atobe's skeptical look, he continued, "Tezuka has a mole at the back his head. Not many people know that. It's normally hidden by his hair. Shiroi has the same. And ... I found a scar there too."

Atobe drained his glass and poured himself another. He stared at the golden liquid for a few moments. The first step was always the hardest, he tried to console himself. "There was something else," he said reluctantly. "The first time I met Shiroi, he said 'There is no Tezuka Kunimitsu'".

"Atobe ... If you knew that ... why did you deny he is Tezuka?" Fuji narrowed his eyes to slits of blue.

"Because he said so." Atobe said frivolously.

Fuji crossed his arm. "Don't play with me."

Atobe ignored him. He stared at the bubbles lazily rising in his flute glass. "I didn't want him to be Tezuka."

His mind went back to the hotel and Shiroi. Pale, meek, broken.

Not Tezuka he remembered. Not Tezuka who withstood his intimidations and assaults with cool head, iron will, fiery passion and good humour. The Tezuka who had taken him aside in his moment of weakness, to let him vent and cry. Because he should have known better than to grow too attached to Hyoutei. But somehow, they had wormed their way into his heart and letting go was hard. Letting Kabaji go was even harder. But he was only 15 and nobody consulted 15-year-olds about where they want to live and go to school. He still kept in touch with Kabaji, but it wasn't the same any more. He can't do anything and Kabaji no longer told him who and how badly he had been bullied.

Shiroi was not Tezuka. Not to him. Shiroi did not have what it takes to be Tezuka.

_"Denial is a child's feeble protest against reality, Keigo. Grow up!"_ said the inconvenient little voice in his head.

"What happened to Tezuka?" said Fuji when Atobe remained silent.

"I don't know. I met Shiroi a few months ago. He was with ... ah ... bad company. I'm keeping him safe here until he can take care of himself. Fuji, what happened to Tezuka after he left for Germany?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know? Surely Tezuka would have kept in touch with one of you." Atobe could not keep the sharpness out of his tone.

Fuji winced but did not comment on it. "We lost touch. I moved back to Chiba in Senior High. Tezuka never returned any of my emails. I didn't even have his forwarding address after he moved."

"What do you mean? Moved?"

"I heard from Oishi that Tezuka's family moved from his old house. Atobe, do you know where he might go?"

"No, I don't. I just hope he didn't go back to his old ... acquaintances." Atobe gave a frustrated snarl. "I'm not happy with you, Fuji. It was by chance that I met him again. I wouldn't count on luck the second time." Atobe swirled his glass worriedly. "Shiroi ... there's something wrong with him. I don't know if he can take care of himself out there. It's too easy to take advantage of him."

Fuji nodded. "I'm sorry for scaring him. Please tell him that, if ... when he comes back."

"Go away, Fuji. Ore-sama do not want to see you again."

* * *

**Response to Reviews:**

Aan : I wouldn't say it's all tear-jerking angst from here. Although this story is supposed to make me write angst and more emotionally-charged prose, ah … I'm still working my way to it. I'll still go back to a more upbeat light-hearted style here and there. I won't make you cry buckets every week. *grin* But let me know if it's working – a twinge, a blink, a tear, or bleh … just so I know if I'm doing it right or wrong. Sanada and Tezuka … right. Put them together and Tezuka automatically becomes uke. Don't ask me why, it just works that way in my head. Maybe I'll write the part about Tezuka's notebook from 'Love is like Tennis' universe. Will see.

geecee: Thanks! Glad to hear Shiroi came out the way I intended. Just caught up with Shin Tenipuri. Atobe's stamina and Atobe with x-ray vision! That is just asking for a really twisted crack.

Jadeskye79 : You know me well! *grin*

sotfreakazoid : Not telling. *whistle*


	9. Chapter 9

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 9**

After Fuji left, Atobe mulled over the puzzle that was Shiroi. "_Tezuka. Not Shiroi_," he told himself.

"Damn!" he exclaimed out loud.

"_Indeed_," the calmer part of his mind pointed out, "_I've been in denial too long._ _Don't want to admit it, do I?_"

"Damn!" he said again with considerable feeling. "That means I slept with Tezuka Kunimitsu!_"_ He shuddered. It sounded even worse when he said it out loud.

Why Shiroi did not recognise Fuji? Why did Shiroi ran away from Fuji, but not himself? Shiroi or Tezuka rather had recognised Atobe, however brief it was. But from what Fuji had told him, Shiroi had not recognised or acknowledged Fuji at all.

Atobe was not so delusional as to think Tezuka would consider himself a closer friend than Tezuka's own ex-team mates. Indeed, Atobe considered their relationship to be friendly provocateur. Both of them guilty of being contrary and taunting each other. Atobe with his outrageous flamboyant extravagance and Tezuka with his outrageous calm understatement. The more dramatic Atobe became, the more understated Tezuka reacted. Not even Oshitari, with his underhanded snide remarks, had managed to incite Atobe to such ridiculous heights.

He never thought it would be so much fun, being not-friend with Tezuka. Tezuka had a wry ironic sense of humour, much like himself. Both of them derived pleasures from seeing others' reactions to their craziness. The Ice King and the Ice Wall. They were so silly and childish. But those were the privileges of being young and adolescent. He had left the title of Ice King behind when he left Hyoutei. Tezuka left his much earlier, when he resigned as Captain and passed the baton to his successor.

Tezuka was a warmer and articulate person in private, once both of them dropped their captain personae. Even so, they never lost their mutual respect and competitiveness. They were too alike and had to assert their differences. Like yin and yang. Duality. Two sides of the same coin. They needed each other to form a fine balance from one extreme to the other. Be it tennis, fishing or Greek philosophers, they would compete, debate and try to one up each other.

How could Shiroi really be Tezuka? Shiroi who was openly affectionate with him. Tezuka who secretly understood him better than his own parents, but would rather cut off his arm than have physical contact closer than shake someone's hand. Shiroi who was terrified of Fuji and Tezuka who fondly called Fuji a troublesome responsibility. Same thing Atobe called Jirou. Both stemmed from their mutual frustration of getting both Fuji and Jirou motivated enough to fully realise their potentials. Though, if he thought about it, Jirou bothered him less than Fuji bothered Tezuka. Fuji ... Damn that Seigaku prat for making Shiroi run away. He had practically unravelled all of Atobe's hard work.

But, as much as Fuji terrified Shiroi, it was inconceivable for Tezuka to be afraid of anyone. Certainly not Fuji. He may be afraid for them. Like he was for Echizen who was headed for purposeless self-destruction until he intervened and redirected Echizen's path. No, Tezuka was never afraid of anyone. Not Atobe, not Sanada, not the coaches, not even his own grandfather. The only one Tezuka feared ... the only one ...

Suddenly, Atobe had an epiphany. He was going about it the wrong way. He laughed out loud at the irony of it. Of course, Tezuka would feel less threatened by him than Fuji. Or what Fuji represented, rather than Fuji himself. He raised his glass in a toast. "Happy birthday, Tezuka! I know you're in there. Somewhere ..."

Fuji knew Atobe did not tell him everything he knew about Tezuka. But there was someone who made a hobby out of ferreting things out. He contacted Inui, via Oishi. Oishi was still a medical student in Keio University, where Inui was doing his Masters in Journalism. And Oishi diligently and conscientiously kept in touch with everyone.

Like Oishi, Inui said that Tezuka never returned any of his mails. His last update on Tezuka's notes were Oishi's report that Tezuka's home phone was disconnected. And Oishi's following visit found a new family in Tezuka's house and was told Tezuka's family had moved from his old address. That was in September, five months after they all entered Senior High and went their separate ways. Oishi thought that Tezuka's family might have migrated to Germany to be closer to him. After all that, Inui asked the question that Fuji had expected he would. Why was Fuji asking about Tezuka after all this time?

Fuji hesitated a moment before dropping the bomb. "Tezuka is in Japan. But I don't know where."

"It is Japan Open currently. Maybe you should check Ariake Coliseum," Inui suggested.

"He is not here for Japan Open. He doesn't play tennis anymore. ... and he doesn't remember me ..." It hurt even more when he said it out loud to Inui.

Inui, intrigued by Fuji's strange questions, reopened his Tezuka files, searching for new data on Tezuka. He started to piece together what happened to Tezuka after they graduated. Being a student of Journalism gave him convenient access to digital archives of all printed media in the last 50 years. What he found surprised him. It was a week later that he called all the other ex-regulars for a reunion, everyone except Echizen who had flown back to US. He arranged the meeting after Japan Open, so that Kaidou could attend without the news affecting his performance.

Everyone had gathered in Kawamura Sushi. The usual gaggle of gossips and news updates dried up as Inui walked in with grim face. He gave each of them a folder of his findings, ignoring inquiries whether Tezuka would be coming soon.

He started with a question. "Kaidou, you and Echizen have been playing in the international tennis circuit for a while. Have you seen or heard from Tezuka?"

Kaidou shook his head. "What's going on, Inui-senpai? Echizen asked me the same question in the quarterfinals. Said he hasn't heard from Tezuka-buchou since Buchou left Seigaku. He was ... ah ... disappointed. He had been looking for a rematch with Buchou."

Inui simply nodded, grimly confirming his suspicions. "Please open the first page." Inui flipped his folder open, displaying a small newspaper cutting. "On April 2nd, seven years ago, at around 3:45 am, there was a car accident. Tezuka Kunikazu, Tezuka Kuniharu and Tezuka Ayana were listed as victims that died on site. In case you don't know, they were Tezuka's grandfather, father and mother. There was no mention of Tezuka Kunimitsu, so it is safe to presumed that he either survived the accident or was not in it."

Inui adjusted his glasses before continuing, "I cannot find any data on Tezuka until much later. Oishi, when did you go to Tezuka's house?"

Oishi frowned as he tried to remember back at the time. They had all gone their separate ways. Fuji to Chiba, Oishi and Eiji to Aikibara High School, Tezuka to special tennis school in Germany. Only Inui and Kawamura remained in Seishun Gakuen. He had wanted to know if and when Tezuka would come back to Japan for school break so he could arrange a reunion. He had sent emails, once a day, then once a week. Until Tezuka's mailbox overflowed and bounced back. Then, suddenly, Tezuka's email address became invalid. He was worried that Tezuka was annoyed at him for sending so many mails and cancelled his mail service. That was when he decided to go to Tezuka's house. "I went there during summer break, August or September. But the family there told me Tezuka's family moved away. They sold the house! Tezuka should have told us if his family were planning to move away."

"Actually, the house was auctioned by a bank, after the accident," said Inui. "The auction notice is on page 2. It was bought by a properties investor. Then it was sold to another family. I believe they are the ones currently occupying the house."

"Tezuka might have asked the bank to sell it on his behalf," Kaidou added.

"It's possible with 73.4% probability."

"Inui," Oishi said worriedly, "why are we here discussing about Tezuka's private affairs? Even if these are terrible news, and I wished we had known then, so we could attend the funeral. But ... but aren't these data ... I mean we're stepping on Tezuka's privacy. Tezuka would be sad. He wouldn't want us to talk behind his back like this. We should just confront him with whatever the issue is, Inui."

"Then Oishi, can you get in touch with Tezuka?"

Oishi shook his head.

"Anyone can reach Tezuka at all?"

More heads shook around the table.

Inui turned to Fuji. "Then I shall let Fuji explain the why."

Automatically, all heads turned to Fuji. The customary smile that Fuji wore was missing. "I saw Tezuka in a club in Shinjuku." Fuji saw the look on Inui's face, answering the question on his lips. "That was on 30th September, Inui." Inui scribbled into his notebook. "He denied being Tezuka. He didn't even recognise me. I don't think he was pretending not to know me."

"Maa maa, Fuji." Eiji draped his arm over Fuji's shoulder. "Don't you think you might have been mistaken? If it's Shinjuku, it's probably a night club. It's not the kind of place Tezuka hangs out in. Now if it had been a boring place like the library or museum ... you might find an old man called Te-zu-ka there." He laughed at his own joke. "Maybe it was just a guy that looked like Tezuka?"

"No. Atobe confirmed it."

"Atobe?" Everyone shouted, except Inui who was writting furiously. This was news to him too.

"Hyotei's captain, that Atobe? What was Tezuka doing with him?" Momoshiro spoke up for the first time.

"From what I know, Atobe was taking care of him. Atobe knew him as Shiroi. At first, he wasn't sure if Shiroi was Tezuka. But two of us can't be wrong. Tezuka recognised Atobe the first time they met. Atobe said Shiroi mentioned Tezuka's name. Then, he acted as if he never knew Atobe after that."

"Interesting ... What do you think, Oishi?" asked Inui.

"Umm ... Medically, it sounds like amnesia, if Tezuka was really Tezuka and he really didn't know his name and can't remember Fuji. But if Atobe said he recognised Atobe in the beginning ..."

"Can amnesia change the whole personality? Change left-handedness tor right? Atobe said Shiroi is right-handed."

"Not really. Not even if he forgot everything. You don't suddenly change from being left-handed to right. The neurological connections for fine motor controls are built over time and becomes set at adulthood. It's part of physical memory, like swimming. Your body remembers even if you forgot everything else. But ... ah ... I'm not qualified to make such diagnosis."

"Ne, Fuji-sempai. What actually happened with you and buchou?" Momo quipped again. "All the stories about buchou forgetting and changing ... it doesn't sound like buchou at all."

"Momo is right. It does sound like quite a stretch, Fuji. Even if he looked like Tezuka. Atobe did not know Tezuka as well as we do." Kawamura put in.

"It is Tezuka," Fuji insisted.

"We're not going anywhere with this," Kaidou said irritably. "Inui-sempai, is there something else we should know about?"

"Not much. The next few pages are copies from various magazines and small newspaper articles written by Tezuka Kunimitsu. There are no photos of the writer. They are all dated from December to April. Within 5 months, Tezuka had published 15 articles, all of them related in some way to High School Year 1 syllabus. That was all. I searched all the articles from then to till now, but there were no more articles under his name. The magazine publisher said he was one of their freelance writers for the education columns."

Eiji squinted at the small type. "Inui, it could be some other Tezuka. These are all Japanese magazines and newspapers. Tezuka was in Germany at these dates. He would be writting for German magazines and newspapers."

Inui watched Oishi's expression carefully as he said, "It's Tezuka's work. Average of 10 words per sentence. First sentence of each paragraph shorter than the rest. Average 5 sentences per paragraph. First sentence contains main point. Three to eight sentences to elaborate the point. Flawless research and original rationalised arguments. Last paragraph to summarise and point out other possible conclusions. Frequency of _'-te iru_' perfect tense is 68.3%. Frequency of '_ha_' marker is 17.9%. There's more, but I believe I've made my point. They are typical Tezuka-style essay."

"And you would know because ...?"

"Inui always borrowed Tezuka's essays." It was Oishi who answered. "That is, Inui and I used to borrow Tezuka's essays."

When the others turned to stare at him, Inui shrugged and said, "I had all his assignment and exam essays from first to third year. Tezuka had the highest scores in World History, Geography, Japanese and English for our batch. He was weaker in Chemistry and Biology. Oishi's Biology essays are more detailed and his Maths solutions are neater." Inui smiled cryptically. "Would you like to know your academic standing in Junior High, Kikumaru?"

Eiji shivered and shook his head vigorously.

"Is that all you found out, Inui?" Fuji asked.

Inui nodded.

"What do we do now?"

"There's not much we can do, Fuji. Tezuka's life is his own choice, even if he chose to forget us," said Kawamura.

"No! I refused to believe that. Tezuka would not choose this life, doing the things he did."

"What ... what do you mean, Fuji? What did Tezuka do?" Oishi frowned, perplexed.

"Ah ... I ... I can't say it. I just have to find him again. Until he acknowledges me, I can't accept it. I can't accept his choices. We were such poor friends, we didn't even know Tezuka lost his family. What horrible time he must have gone through all on his own." He looked at each of them in turn. "I thought we were Tezuka's closest friends. Yet, even I never realised when Tezuka completely disappeared from my life. Somehow, I want to believe Tezuka is fine and too busy. After all, _he_ is Tezuka. He's the responsible and reliable one."

"We know, Fuji," said Kawamura, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"I think we have conclusively deduced that the last time anyone has seen or heard from Tezuka was the Tennis Club team farewell party we threw in his house," said Inui. "And sometime after the last article in April XXXX, he disappeared without a trace."

* * *

**Note:**  
Japan Open is held in Tokyo's Ariake Colosseum, an enormous tennis centre consisting of 48 tennis courts and a stadium with one of the first retractable roofs in tennis. Normally held in early October. Eg. 03.10.2011-09.10.201.

**Response to Reviewers:**  
**Aan:** Wow! That's really high praise. *blush* You could say this story is on two time-tracks. There will be a lot of flashback from various people.

**jadeskye79 **: Tensai to kick start Atobe and more chain of events.

**geecee: **Eek! Thanks for telling me. Atobe's birthday corrected now. Glad you enjoyed Fuji and sexy collarbone. A guy can be sexy, without taking off his shirt *wink*. Yeah, I was unhappy when Tezuka left and stopped reading for a while, catching up Atobe's arc at one go. The whole 3rd vs 5th Court is like a repeat of Kantou's Seigaku vs Hyoutei again. Atobe getting the short-changed yet again, playing both the role of Kawamura and Tezuka. Grrr! And I don't see how Irie's low stamina could hold up to Atobe's long play. What will Atobe next tie-break be like? 1000-1000? Seriously, if Tezuka disappears permanently from Shin Tenipuri, I will not follow it for long. Though now that Inuyasha and FMA had ended, and Saiunkoku not moving, there aren't any manga to look forward to other than Shin Tenipuri. I'm horribly biased towards Tezuka, Atobe and Rikkaidai. I suspect Konomi is up to his old trick, decamping his 'ultimate player' so they'll show up again at the end for Ryoma to beat with even more unbelievable techniques. After all, he did the same to Tezuka, Yukimura and the 'top tier' high school players. Sorry, can't help ranting.


	10. Chapter 10

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 10**

Atobe tried Shiroi's mobile phone again, to no avail. Asakura said the phone was either broken or dead. There was not GPS or phone signal that could be picked up by a telecommunications tower. The bank showed a large withdrawal on the day he ran out on Fuji 20 kilometres away from home. He was relieved that Shiroi at least had some common sense to take all the money that Atobe had given him for his spending. It meant he would not be completely helpless and he had more options.

However, there were no more progress after that. Not from the hospitals or the morgue, which at least was good news. In the week following Shiroi's disappearance, Atobe started going around the neighbourhood and dodgy places to look for Shiroi. However, after a week of frustration and no progress, he could not justify slacking from work and inviting danger to his person. Asakura had been giving him hard looks lately for making his life difficult. Narrow back alleys and crowded clubs were a security nightmare.

Atobe threw the latest financial report from Taiwan down. The words and numbers swam unhelpfully before his eyes while all he could think of a helpless frightened Shiroi. He had been debating with Asakura about alerting the police. The fact that Shiroi did not have any legal identity or document made his circumstances difficult to explain to the law. That was when he remembered someone who has family connections with the police force that could possibly be of help.

At Atobe Mansion, Atobe Keigo sat on the plush armchair, cross-armed and tapping his foot impatiently. Servants streamed into the room one by one, carrying boxes labelled 'Hyoutei Junior High Tennis Club'. He could see the plumes of dust as Michael opened each box one by one.

Each shake of Michael's head, a manservant would close the box and take it away from the room. A slight nod would set it aside by the corner of the room, where another group would take every item out to be cleaned and arranged neatly on a pushcart. Files and notebooks piled up. Two hundred members for three years each generated quite a large pile of paper work. His secretary went through these one by one, picking an item or two from the piles and waving the rest off. The selected items were finally presented to Atobe who would flip through the pages and sent back to the rest of the pile to be packed and sent back to storage.

Finally, she brought him a thin yellow file. He scanned the list within. With an imperious wave, he told the room that he had found the object he was looking for and they may clean everything up now. In ten seconds, Atobe had secluded himself in his home office.

The first number he tried was no longer in-service. He was not surprised. He hoped the second number still worked. It gave a promising ring.

"Hello?" a pleasant female voice answered.

"Good evening. Is this Sanada residence?"

Yes, it was. No, Genichirou was not in. He lived in Yokohama now. Yes, she had his new address and contact number.

The next two numbers were utter failures. One went to a random house in Tokyo, the other to someone in Kobe. After what Fuji told him, he had not expected any positive results from Tezuka's old home and mobile numbers. But he certainly would not trust Fuji's words completely. He shrugged it off and called the number Sanada's mother gave him.

"Sanada speaking," a deep male voice answered at precisely three rings.

"Atobe here."

"Atobe? From Saitama Bureau?"

"What? There is one and only ore-sama!"

"Oh ... that Atobe. Why are you calling me?"

"I need a favour."

It took some persuasion but Sanada finally agreed to meet him. Atobe refused to talk over the phone about it. He knew it would only pique Sanada's curiosity and forced Sanada to meet face to face.

Sanada found Atobe was all ready waiting for him in a private room at a well-appointed tea house. He looked out of place, with his smart Armani suit and blinding metallic silver silk tie, sitting on flat cushion with folded limbs and a delicate teacup.

"I took the liberty of ordering something appropriate," Atobe said by way of greeting, taking a sip of gyokuro tea.

Sanada winced. He did not patronise that tea house often, only with his grandfather and in company of his superiors. He tried not to look too closely at the bill each time. By the fragrance wafting from the pot, Atobe's bill would be enormous.

Sanada scowled at him. "You haven't changed. I thought you went to US or was it UK?"

"Eton, UK. Then US. Harvard."

"Why are you back in Japan?"

"I am a Japanese citizen, you know."

"Why do you want to meet up, Atobe?"

"Straight to the point, I see. I remembered you had a grandfather in the police force."

"What about it?"

"Does he know a Tezuka in Tokyo Metropolitan police force?"

"Tezuka? There was a Tezuka. I used to watch them play shogi. It not an uncommon surname. There's an Atobe or two in Tokyo Met too."

"Completely unrelated, I'm sure," Atobe huffed. "I'm looking for Tezuka Kunimitsu's grandfather. Teaches judo, likes fishing. Don't know what's his full name." Atobe hoped he could get somewhere with Tezuka's grandfather. It was at least a known organisation. Tezuka's father was a salary man and he did not know which company or even what industry Tezuka's father worked in.

"Tezuka Kunimitsu? Seishun Gakuen's Tezuka Kunimitsu?" Sanada gave Atobe a hard look. "Atobe, isn't it about time you get over your obsession with Tezuka?"

"It's not what you think. I just want to get in touch with his family."

Sanada gave him a disbelieving snort. "Sorry, I can't help you."

"I know you can find out. Just ask your grandfather."

"No. I refuse to help you stalk Tezuka. Really, after 8 years, you need a shrink." Sanada rose to leave when Atobe childishly pinched him on the arm. "Ow!"

"Sit down. I'm not done yet." Atobe's voice was sharp with indignation. "I am not stalking him. Tezuka is missing. Before you accuse me of being some sick pervert, I'm trying to find a missing person."

"What do you mean missing? Tell me everything you know. Don't leave anything out, Atobe, or I'll know about it."

"Tezuka ran away ..." Atobe found himself telling Sanada about everything that happened since he found Shiroi. Sanada listened intently to the whole story, making small notes. When he finished, Sanada started questioning him about certain points, casting doubts on the accuracy of his memory. He also focused quite a bit on his conversation with Fuji Syuusuke.

At the end of the hour, Atobe felt it was rather unfair. He was supposed to get information from Sanada, not spill everything to him. Somehow, in the intervening years, Sanada's training in the police academy had turned him into a formidable interrogator. And it felt good to finally tell someone of his suspicions and worries. Even someone like Sanada Genichirou.

"Sanada, can you check it out? An address or phone number ..."

Sanada turned his cooling teacup slowly. "There's no need to. Tezuka Kunikazu passed away some time ago. My grandfather knew him quite well. They used to meet twice a year. I think I was still in senior high school when he died in a car accident, along with his son and daughter-in-law. The police Family Welfare took care of their funeral arrangements."

"What about Tezuka Kunimitsu? Those has to be his parents. His father was an only child and his grandfather lived with them."

"I don't know. Didn't he go to Germany on JTA scholarship? Renji mentioned Tezuka got in. I heard he had recommendations from all 3 Junior Senbatsu coaches. He wasn't at the funeral. Grandfather would have mentioned it if he was at the funeral. It was a bad tragedy. Drunk driver in a loaded truck hit their car. Most of the people at the memorial were from police force - colleagues, students, people from his old cases. Some neighbours and a few men from the son's company showed up. There were no other children or teenagers at that funeral. None of Tezuka's friends went, as far as I know."

"I've never heard of it. Surely Tezuka would have mentioned something. Or one of his friends. Did anyone report a missing person on Tezuka at that time?" Atobe said thoughtfully.

"Atobe, what are you saying? Why would anyone report Tezuka as missing? I thought you said Tezuka is missing now."

"He is. I wondered if he was, back then. Now that I think about it ... the last time I saw him was before I left for London. I offered to fly him with me on private jet to London. But he had all ready booked to fly Narita-Frankfurt."

"There was no missing person report on Tezuka. Grandfather would have said something if there was a police investigation. He knew I knew the grandson."

"That's too bad."

"Sorry, I can't help much. You should report missing person to Tokyo Met." Atobe was silent. Seeing Atobe's reluctance, Sanada relented. "Look, I'll keep an eye out for reports on anyone resembling Tezuka. Let me know if there's anything new. Do you have a recent photo?"

Atobe shook his head. "He is ... rather camera shy. Actually, he was strangely upset over the most trivial things. "

"Atobe, you don't have room to talk about strange tastes." Sanada remembered Atobe's more western affections. Strange tastes indeed to someone like Sanada and Tezuka's more traditional upbringing.

"I didn't ask unreasonable things," Atobe said rather defensively. "Just a simple photo for his phone wallpaper. Or cut that ridiculously long hair. He went into hysterics. He ... Sanada, you won't believe it till you see him. He's changed. He's not like the Tezuka we knew."

"When you find him, I'll see for myself." Both of them lapsed into thoughtful silence. After a moment, Sanada said, "You've changed too, Atobe. For the better, I think."

Atobe snorted delicately and dropped his card into Sanada's lap. "Call me!" he demanded.

On the trip back from Kanagawa to Tokyo, Atobe remained thoughtful. Sanada had just reminded him that Tezuka had a JTA scholarship. Sakaki-sensei had been disappointed when Atobe had declined the offer, saying that his father had enrolled him in a high school in UK. Surely they had some sort of records of which academy Tezuka had enrolled in. Perhaps he could pick up the trail from there.

Three days later, his head of security, Asakura, returned with a slim folder. "JTA did list Tezuka Kunimitsu as recipient of JTA scholarship. He was earmarked as one of the young talents with potential to represent Japan in the next Olympics. He was enrolled in Manneheim Pro Tennis Academy and Arisada Japanese International School for three-year study. He did not register in both schools and was reported as 'no show'. I've also checked JAL's flights on the date you have specified. There was a ticket booked under his name on 6:15 am flight from Narita to Frankfurt. He was not on the passenger list of the flight. Again, 'no show'. That's all the official records we have."

He pause a moment as Atobe fingered the photocopied lists, official letters and forms.

"I took the liberty of checking the news around these dates. It was a long shot. There's a newspaper report of a car accident involving a Tezuka family. Tezuka Kunikazu, Tezuka Ayana and Tezuka Kuniharu were killed in a car accident in Edogawa prefecture in the early morning. The timing and the location fit."

Asakura paused for a moment. His boss's knuckles were white as he clenched the arms of his swivel chair. "Tezuka Kunikazu. Sanada said his grandfather's name was Tezuka Kunikazu! Why is Tezuka's name not on the news? Was he in the accident or was it after his family left him at the airport?"

"He was in the accident. As a minor, his name and identity was withheld from the press. It was not easy to get hospital records dated that far back. He was admitted into Edogawa Hospital ER at 3:59 am on April 2nd. He was in ICU for 17 days, then transferred to trauma ward. He was transferred 32 days later to Edokita Nursing Home. On 8th November, he was discharged from Edokita."

"He was in Tokyo all this time! When I thought he was in Germany... Damned it, Tezuka! Why didn't you call me? I could have helped."

"Master Keigo, would you like me to get the medical charts from Edogawa Hospital? It will take time to hunt down the actual paperworks. And it would be better to hire a private detective if you want to dig for more information about this person." Asakura could not help the disapproving tone in his voice. He was hired to ensure Atobe Keigo's safety. He did not see how running around digging into Tezuka's past would help him do that. It would make sense if this Tezuka was sending threatening letters or stalking Atobe, but that was not the case. He was also not too thrilled to find Atobe's sudden shift of interest from the missing Shiroi to the mysterious Tezuka.

"No, that won't be necessary. Send someone to find the medical records from the hospital. You could speak to someone from Edokita and find out why he was in a nursing home. See if anyone remembered him and what happened after he was discharged."

"Master Keigo ..."

"I can't to hire an investigator. Father will find out and ask unnecessary questions. You and your men will have to do."

"Sir ..."

Atobe's mobile phone rang from an unknown caller id. It was 12:01 pm, Atobe's usual lunch-break. Asakura suppressed the urge to sigh as Atobe waved him out imperiously.

"Hello, Keigo-sama," Shiroi's voice drifted softly through the speaker.

"Shiroi!" Atobe was stunned. "Where are you?"

"... Osaka, Keigo-sama. Sorry. Shiroi is sorry, Keigo-sama. Sorry for leaving suddenly. Sorry for calling Keigo-sama at work."

"Shiroi! Ore-sama want you to come back immediately. What are you doing in Osaka?"

"Shiroi doesn't know. Shiroi woke up here and there was a note. He tears Shiroi's notebook! The nice notebook Ayako-san gave Shiroi."

Who was 'he'? Atobe puzzled. But more importantly, "What note?"

"It says '_Last station on Tokaido Shinkansen is Osaka. This address is XX, Higashi jima, Higashi dougawa-ku, Osaka city. Stay away from Tokyo._' Keigo-sama, Shiroi sorry, Keigo-sama. Shiroi can't go back to Tokyo. He said so. Please, don't be angry with Shiroi."

Atobe could hear the little sobs on the other side. He gentled his tone. "I'm not angry, Shiroi. I am worried. Now, why don't you come home. We can talk about this."

"No! Please, Keigo-sama. Shiroi promise to be good. Please, Keigo-sama. Please don't make Shiroi to go back. He will find Shiroi again. And then the other one will wake up and ... and ..."

"Who?"

"Fu ... Fuji-san. He won't leave Shiroi alone, Keigo-sama. And he's waking the Other. He's sleeping now. But he was awake and he took Shiroi away. And now Shiroi is lost and Shiroi can't go back to Tokyo. And if Fuji-san ... if Fuji-san finds Shiroi, he will wake up again. He will wake up and hurt Fuji-san."

Atobe winced. That last part was practically a panicked wail. "All right, all right, Shiroi. Don't cry. Calm down. Whatever the problem, I'll take care of it. Don't worry. Just ..."

"No ... please, Keigo-sama. Please, please, please ..." There was genuine fear in Shiroi's voice.

Atobe could feel an impending headache. "All right. All right. You don't have to come back to Tokyo. Where are you staying?" Shiroi gave him the address again. "Stay where you are and don't move. I'll come and get you, understand? Stay there."

"Yes, Keigo-sama. Shiroi is going back to the room right now. Shiroi will wait there for Keigo-sama. Shiroi will be good and wait quietly."

After Shiroi hung up, Atobe called Ayako in. "Prepare my car and private jet. I'm going to Osaka. Have a car ready to pick me up at Osaka airport. And cancel all my appointments for today."

* * *

**Note:**  
*** Gyokuro** (Jewel/Jade Dew) - fine and expensive green tea, different from normal green tea (_sencha_) because it is grown under the shade rather than the full sun. Infusion is pale green colour. Properly prepared with warm (40°C) water and long steeping time.  
* Toukaidou Shinkansen - bullet train from Tokyo to Shin Osaka, travelling 515 km in 3 hours.

**Responses to Reviewers**

See! I'm not so evil to poor Shiroi.

**Aan**: Thank you for your wonderful feedback. It helps to know I'm on the right track in developing Shiroi's character, and figuring out the dilemma that I was setting up. Funny you should mention Sanada/Tezuka … Please tune in next week for the next major arc! ^.^ OK, OK, the naughty Sanada/Tezuka fic is in the mixing tank and getting blended. It will take a while before it it's ready to be baked. :D

**jadeskye79** : Thank you! Writing Inui is strangely easy for me, though I had to pick up a few Japanese grammar terminology.

**Kamu** : Gracias (that's the limit of my Spanish). I have to depend on Google to Translate the review. Glad you enjoyed the story so far.

**geecee****: **Phew! Thanks. Here is the promised chapter on Atobe's side. Bleach - glad to know I'm not the only one that finds it boring till my favourites show up. Favourites being Byakuya, Grimmjow, Ishida father (Narita Ken!) and son, etc. It's bad when the omake/end-mini-story is more interesting than the main body. Tenipuri – It's lame and I wouldn't put it past him recycling plot devices as usual. Yeah, poor Tez wins are too easy and his losses are just Konomi-Ryoma's inferiority complex to prove Ryoma is better than Tez indirectly. Evidence: new Court 2 members. I guess I'd still look fwd to Atobe and Yukimura. I hope he doesn't short change Yukimura too. Tez vs Yukimura is too much to hope for, which is too bad. Since Tezuka overcame yips, he is the only one capable of countering Yukimura's tennis without ultra-sparkly Teni'muhou.


	11. Chapter 11

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 11**

He looked like a shaggy puppy that had been caught chewing slippers, Atobe thought. All thoughts of Tezuka disappeared from his mind. Tezuka was not capable of being cute.

Shiroi stood drooping before him, head hung low. His long braid likened to droopy tail tucked between his legs. Even his unruly bangs drooped. Occasionally, he sneaked a contrite happy peek at Atobe between the locks falling over his face.

Atobe had a dog like that once, an Olde English Sheepdog. He tried to keep a stern disapproving expression while fighting between the urge to smack him and to cuddle him. It was his greatest weakness. He was just too susceptible to cute helpless things. Whether it was a Jirou or a puppy; it didn't matter.

Finally, he heaved a long sigh and said, "Ore-sama am not angry. You worried ore-sama when you do things like this. Don't do it again."

"Yes, Keigo-sama." Shiroi ventured a shy smile, seeing that Atobe had relented and softened his expression.

"Come. We're leaving." Atobe looked down his nose at the dingy cramped little room. At least Shiroi didn't run back to his old master. Shiroi had some common sense after all, despite his other mental defficiencies.

"What are you waiting for?" Atobe demanded when Shiroi hesitated. Shiroi swallowed uncomfortable, giving him pleading looks again. "All right, we won't go back to Tokyo. Is Kanagawa far enough? You really need someone to keep an eye on you."

Shiroi brightened up immediately and went to fetch his small pack.

The flight back was rather interesting. Initially, Shiroi had grabbed Atobe's left arm and refused to let go. He then curled up next to Atobe and remained stuck to his side. Atobe simply ignored the questioning looks of the flight staff. He locked Shiroi and himself in the stateroom. He held Shiroi loosely in his arms, stroking and petting him like a pampered lap dog.

Once Shiroi had ceased trembling, he tried to get more information from Shiroi. "Shiroi."

"Yes, Keigo-sama?" Shiroi remained lethargic in his lap. He had given Shiroi some airsick pills to keep him calm and slightly sedated. He did not want a panic attack in enclosed space, not even in something as spacious as his jet.

"I want to talk to you about something. Can you tell me about Tezuka?" Shiroi stiffened at the sound of that name. Atobe tightened his hold on one arm while stroking soothingly with the other hand. "Relax. Stay calm. It is safe here. We are alone and no one can hear us." He felt Shiroi shuddered and clutched tighter to his shirt. "Why do you think Te-..."

"No ... no ... don't ... don't say his name."

"All right. I won't say his name. You don't have to be afraid of him, as long as I am here."

Shiroi looked up at him, hopeful yet dubious. "He will hurt you too. And then Shiroi will be punished."

"I won't punish you, Shiroi. Why do you think he will hurt me?"

"He killed a boy once. A boy who called his name. It's Shiroi's fault. Shiroi failed. Failed to stop him from coming out."

Atobe frowned. Shiroi was too meek to hurt a fly. Tezuka, on the other hand, was too honourable and self-righteous to deliberately harm anyone. He had always considered that Tezuka's greatest weakness. Seeing Shiroi was getting agitated, he steered away to safer topic. "Is that why you ran away? Because Fuji called him out?"

Shiroi nodded. "Fuji-san is not like Keigo-sama. Keigo-sama is kind and warm. The Other- ... He doesn't mind Keigo-sama. He likes Keigo-sama and stays asleep. He doesn't like Fuji-san. He gets close and scary when Fuji-san is around. And ... and Fuji-san kept saying his name. Fuji-san won't stop saying his name. Fuji-san won't stop ..."

Atobe felt tears soaking through his shirt. "It's all right. Hush. You won't see Fuji anymore. I won't let Tezuka hurt anyone."

"There is no Tezuka Kunimitsu. Tezuka Kunimitsu does not exist. There is no Tezuka Kunimitsu. Tezuka Kunimitsu is dead. Tezuka Kunimitsu should die. There is no Tezuka. There is no Kunimitsu ... There is no one ..." With that litany, Shiroi finally succumbed to sleep.

Atobe settled him into a more comfortable position, then pried a piece of paper from his pocket. One side showed the jagged edges of being torn from a book.

'_Last station on Tokaido Shinkansen is Osaka. This address is XX, Higashi jima, Higashi dougawa-ku, Osaka city. Stay away from Tokyo_ _Prefecture. Room paid 1 week advance_ _until 7 Oct XXXX_. _Stay hidden and do not contact anyone._'

"Have to call," Shiroi muttered in his sleep. "Must not be lost. No, he say don't. But Keigo-sama ... no ... have to ... no ... lost ..."

Atobe frowned. The note was not in Shiroi's childish handwriting. It was an untidy scrawl and uneven, but bore a closer resemblance to Tezuka's elegant script.

He spent the rest of the flight pondering what Asakura had told him about Tezuka and what little coherence he could get out of Shiroi. Both disturbed him. For once, he wondered if he had gone over his head in the matter. Some time in the last few hours, his life felt like some daytime soap opera. Shiroi was still consistently Shiroi. And Shiroi treated Tezuka like another person, a frightening and troublesome relative that he just had to put up with.

He looked down on the sleeping face pillowed on his lap. Some things did not add up. Why did Shiroi call Tezuka 'Tezuka'? If Atobe were to talk to himself, he thought himself 'Keigo', not Atobe. If Tezuka was also Shiroi, wouldn't he be referring to himself as 'Kunimitsu'?

What was obvious to him now was 'Tezuka' had emerged some time after Shiroi met with Fuji. Shiroi did not know how to find his way back to Tokyo on his own. He certainly did not know the fastest and most efficient way to get out of Tokyo in a hurry. But Tezuka was certainly capable of it. So, Tezuka went to a nearby ATM, withdrew a large sum. Atobe had wondered why he did not empty the account until Asakura reminded him that ATMs have daily withdrawal limits. Then, Tezuka left Tokyo on train, found and rented a place in Osaka, cheap enough Shiroi could remain there for a month before he ran out of money. Finally, Tezuka left the note for Shiroi and disappeared again. It was like a magic genie. Except Shiroi was not consulted in the matter and did not remember anything of the entire event from Tokyo to Osaka.

Why didn't Tezuka stay on when he had successfully come out? Why leave Shiroi helpless in the middle of nowhere? Between the two of them, Tezuka was more capable of functioning in the real world than Shiroi. Why did Tezuka insist on staying out of Tokyo? Because of Fuji? No. He was certain Shiroi wanted to stay out of Tokyo because of Fuji. Rather, Tezuka's reaction to Fuji. But what was Tezuka's reason?

Atobe thought back to Asakura's morning report. At last, he finally had time to register and digest the implications. Tezuka, wounded badly enough in the accident, he was hospitalised for more than a month. He missed his flight and all his carefully arranged plans went off-rail. Alone, orphaned. Crippled?

Atobe's hand ghosted over Shiroi's left arm. What secrets did that plastic surgery hide? What it couldn't hide from him was the deep damage to the nerves. Shiroi had some limited dexterity to the arm and hand. But no fine control and no strength. He had noticed how that arm pained Shiroi sometimes, though Shiroi had tried to hide it. Just closing the grip into a fist took effort. It would have been devastating to someone like Tezuka, who had been at the cusp of starting a career in Tennis.

But how did Shiroi fit into all this? Was Shiroi all ready there from the beginning? Lurking in some secret corner of Tezuka's mind while they played tennis and debated Nietzsche. That would be disturbing. How did Tezuka ended up in sex trade industry? In the end, Atobe had more questions than answers. That and a boat load of guesses.

_'Focus, Keigo,'_ he reminded himself. It was time to set aside his personal qualms and be pragmatic.

First things first. He had to put Shiroi in another safe house. Preferably with a nanny with impeccable sense of honour and duty. Then what? Shiroi had been his lover for months. His lips curled ironically. It was the longest and most stable relationship in his short life. _'Now , that sounds really depraved, Keigo. Shame on you,' _he told himself.

He was just relieved it was Shiroi that met him in Osaka. He wasn't sure how he could look Tezuka in the eye, knowing he had slept with Shiroi. Shiroi, at least, made him feel more in control. Even if Shiroi managed to bring out his protective side that he would rather not expose to the general public.

First, he would settle Shiroi's living arrangements. Then, he had to take care of clean ups and get his 'official' work back on track. He couldn't hide all his activities that week. Especially today. He would need to find something to justify his trip to Osaka. Start a takoyaki empire? Two weeks worth of backlog to catch up to, plus whatever he normally did, plus crazy 4th quarter year end push to get the revenue numbers up. All to be done before December. Suddenly, he felt really tired.

Asakura was waiting for him with a rented nondescript car at the only airport in Kanagawa. It was actually a military airbase. He did not want to know what kind of strings Asakura had to pull to get them clearance to land there. Still, Ayase in Kanagawa was closer to Yokohama than Haneda Airport in Tokyo. Not by much, but it meant he kept his word to Shiroi not to take him back to Tokyo. While Atobe led Shiroi into the car, Asakura instructed the pilot and flight staff back to Tokyo.

It was late, too late to be civil, thought Sanada. Atobe had waltzed into his apartment at 2 am with Shiroi in tow. After some scrounging around for spare futon and blankets, he had Shiroi installed in the guest room cum study. He closed the door firmly on the sleeping Shiroi and turned on Atobe.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Ahn? You should thank me for doing your job. Don't worry, I'll pay for his room and board."

"That's not what I meant! Who is he and what is he doing here? It's not as if you can't afford to put him in a hotel."

"He is Tezuka."

"Tezuka? That's not..." Sanada turned to the closed door, lowering his voice. "That's not Tezuka. I happened to remember what Tezuka looks like. Have you lost your mind?"

"He is Tezuka. He's not acting like Tezuka. He won't admit he is Tezuka. But just look at him. All right, ignore the hair, but just look closely."

"I don't care who he is. Why did you bring him here?" Sanada demanded.

"I need to put him somewhere outside Tokyo. And I need someone to keep an eye on him. If he runs again, it will be your fault. There's no guarantee I can find him back."

"I refuse to be responsible for your insanities, Atobe."

"Too bad. You're involved now," Atobe made himself comfortable on Sanada's sofa, crossing his legs elegantly.

"He is not Tezuka!"

"Shh! Not so loud. Don't say the T-name unless you want to deal with a hysterical puppy."

Sanada gave him a murderous look. "If, and I mean hypothetical IF!"

Atobe murmured he didn't know Sanada could use multi-syllable words.

Sanada ignored it. "If he is Tezuka, why me? I'm sure one of his old friends would have been happy to take him in. Like his vice-captain ... what's his name? O-something..."

Atobe raised an eyebrow, questioning Sanada's intellect for expecting him to remember an obscure peon that was beneath his notice.

"Well?" said Sanada testily. Eight years was not long enough to be away from Atobe Keigo. Atobe still managed to bring out the worst in him.

Atobe buffed his nails lazily. "Really, how did they allow you to graduate? Ore-sama suppose ore-sama must make allowances for unfortunates who do not possess ore-sama's brilliant insight."

"Atobe ..."

"He panicked and ran away from Fuji. Fuji! I think he was so panicked, he forced Tezuka out. So Tezuka jumped into the first train and rode it all the way, as far as it would go, to the last terminal station and went into hiding. We're just lucky he didn't go to the airport and jumped into the next plane. He could have gone half-way around the world by now. Imagine how he is going to be like with another of his Seigaku friends. Especially with someone like Oishi." Crap! He did remember that plebeian name.

"And he is all right with me?"

Atobe flicked his hair irritably. He was exhausted with flying up and down Honshu and driving around Osaka's narrow streets to hunt down one small obscure motel. Not to mention dealing with suddenly stupid and uncooperative acquaintance who should really act his age. He really did not relish explaining the obvious. Well, obvious to him anyway.

"Well, ore-sama will forgive your ignorance, since you've never been a captain before," he said generously. "You are not one of those brats that looked up to Tezuka, Sanada. He doesn't have to be Tezuka the Invincible and pillar of perfection to you. He is not _your _captain. You have Yukimura for that. So, technically, you are safe."

Seeing Sanada's puzzled expression, Atobe huffed. "Weren't you taking notes when I told you all this? He was a courtesan. A pleasure slave, in case you don't know the word. A sex pet. A very expensive whore, if you want to be crude. You know what that is? He will dress up pretty and will do whatever kink you fancy. He will happily undress at a crook of your finger and cater to your every fantasy. Just say the word and watch him. Imagine ... How mortifying it must be if his old friends found out."

Sanada gave him a disgusted look.

Atobe couldn't help adding, "You don't have to believe ore-sama. You can sample his skills to your heart's content. For free. Which is fortunate for you. I am sure you would not be able to afford his services in _your _life time. He comes highly recommended."

With an elegant wave, Atobe let himself out. He figured he had pushed Sanada enough to give him the benefit of doubt. Sanada would be too curious to dismiss Shiroi out of hand now. But with Sanada's naturally short fuse, Sanada might decide he should kick Atobe out if Atobe provoked him any further. That would be unacceptably undignified. He stood up to leave, noting with satisfaction that he was now taller than Sanada.

Sanada slowly peeked into the room. It was too dark to make out anything other than a lump on the floor. He would just have to find out in the morning.

On the trip back to Tokyo, Asakura finally confronted Atobe.

"This Tezuka Kunimitsu you were investigating on. He is Shiroi, isn't he? That was why you stopped looking for Shiroi and started to look for Tezuka."

Atobe closed his eyes and leaned back against the cushion. "So?"

"I'm just ... That is ... Thank you for not letting me down. I mean, for not abandoning him," he said awkwardly.

"Have I ever?"

"No, not to my knowledge. I would like to keep it that way."

"Hmph."

"Isn't it time you tell me the other things?"

"Like what?"

"Like how you knew Shiroi was Tezuka Kunimitsu? You had Tezuka investigated _before_ Shiroi disappeared."

Atobe gave him a long look. "You should know by now."

Asakura took out a magazine, Pro Tennis Monthly emblazoned over the cover. He opened the centre page. "I found this today, ...yesterday now. It came out when I started asking '_what is the significance of Tezuka Kunimitsu to Atobe Keigo_?'."

An old photo. Tezuka in his blue track suit, the rest in red, white and black Jr. Senbatsu uniforms. Sanada and Atobe flanking Tezuka on each side. Photographers always liked to put Tezuka between them. Symmetry. Sanada being tallest, Tezuka, then Atobe being shortest. Yuushi stood on Sanada's other side. Fuji, Kikumaru, Echizen, Kirihara and Sengoku kneeling in front of them. He knew Sanada had a tight grip on Kirihara's shoulder, hidden from camera, to keep him from bouncing away.

Asakura pointed to the odd one out. "This is Shiroi, isn't it? You knew him, before all this." He pointed to Sanada, "And this one, was the man you just visited."

"No. That is Tezuka Kunimitsu. I knew him, before I met Shiroi. It's a fine distinction, but an important one. Tezuka was well-respected in Junior Tennis. My rival."

"What are you going to do now?"

"Same thing I was doing. Just helping Shiroi to reintegrate back into society."

"What about Tezuka Kunimitsu?"

"What _about _Tezuka Kunimitsu?"

"Don't you want to ... help him ... back?"

"I don't know. Tezuka has left the building. He doesn't seem to want to come back."

"Master Keigo ..."

"I knew Tezuka. He would not approve of Shiroi." Atobe continued in a tired voice, "I don't think Tezuka wants to come back. I can't force him. I can't blame him either. From what you have found out, there really is nothing for him to come back to."

Asakura looked conflicted. "Begging your pardon, Master Keigo. If I could, I would want to go back. To my own name and my own face and to my own life."

_But I can't_, hung heavy in the air, unspoken.

Atobe's eyes softened for a moment. Asakura did not understand how much tennis, independence and autonomy meant to someone like Tezuka. He did not understand the distinction between losing and choosing to let go. "You are not him. His life is not yours. Be thankful for that."

They both remained silent for the rest of the journey.

Sanada was an early riser by nature. Even when he had barely 3 hours of sleep, he still woke up at 6am to practice kendo. Breathing and zazen meditation to centre his focus, followed by light warming up, followed by several rounds of kata with a bokken. Finally, the cooling off as he centered himself once more. As he completed his routine, he found that he had gained an audience. His house-guest knelt at one corner of the room, watching him curiously. It made Sanada self-conscious. He was surprised he was not even aware of Shiroi's presence until then.

Sanada gave him a curt nod by way of greeting. Shiroi returned with a deep obeisance. Sanada cleared his throat uncomfortably. Last night's conversation seemed unreal in morning light. Yet, there, before him, was the man Atobe claimed was Tezuka. His long hair was simply braided, falling in a coiled tail in his lap. He had not spoken a word since arrival. Atobe did all the talking for him. Actually, Atobe did enough talking for all three of them.

But crazy as he sounded, Atobe was not entirely wrong. Shiroi did look like Tezuka without his glasses. A paler, thinner and sicker looking Tezuka. His features may be sharper, but it was the same broad forehead, elegantly arched brows, delicately chiselled nose, sharp pointed chin and deep brown eyes. It was uncanny.

The thing that made Shiroi not Tezuka to him was that he did not have Tezuka's aura. That self-confident, deceptively still waters. A raging ocean dammed behind iron-grip of self-control that was Tezuka to Sanada's memory. He shook his head irritably. Shiroi was a guest, whatever Atobe may say. He had to treat him accordingly.

Sanada prepared breakfast for both of them. Then he showed Shiroi around the house. Shiroi remained shy and reticent, following him around like a curious well-behaved dog. Sanada caught himself and silently cursed Atobe for putting the thought into his head. _Shiroi is not a pet dog!_

"Help yourself to whatever you want in the house. Don't touch the filing cabinet in the study." Sanada stood at the doorway, giving last minute instructions. "I'll be home by 8pm. I'll buy dinner for us on my way back. I don't have extra keys, so I will leave the padlock unlocked. You can lock the wooden door without a key from the inside. This is my number. Call if you need anything. I'll call to check up on how you're doing at lunch time. Understand?"

"Yes, Sanada-san." Shiroi said softly.

That voice, that meek attitude. That was not Tezuka. Was that what Atobe meant by changed? "Just stay home and rest today. We'll talk when I get back from work."

* * *

**Note:**  
At 14: Tezuka=179cm, Sanada=180cm, Atobe=175cm. (Canon)  
At 24: Tezuka=179cm, Sanada=182cm, Atobe=185cm

**Public Announcement:**

New Sanada-Tezuka plotless one-shots added to "Love is like Tennis". 'Thank you' for spending your time in this little corner.

**Response to Reviewers:**

Aan: Somehow, I have to bring Sanada into it. No story is complete without the rival triangle. Shiroi-Tezuka relationship is pretty close to what you think, but there's a twist. ;) Tezuka as trophy. Hahaha! Would you believe I actually conceived this thing because every match Tezuka plays, the other guy always yell 'TEZUKAAA!"? And all of them want Tezuka trophy, not just Atobe and Sanada. There's Fuji, Ryoma, Kirihara, Inui, Chitose, Kite, Kuki … So what if Tezuka become someone else's trophy? Oh! New Sanada-Tezuka added as requested. And there's an extra chapter too. 3 chapters in a week! Be awed by the prowess of procrastination!

Kamu: Thank you. Hope you enjoy the new Sanada-Tezuka.

geecee: Yay! You made it! While I waited and waited, I am stuck by the irony of writer and reviewer. While readers waited for my next instalment, I waited reviewers' kind words of encouragement and some sign that they are still with me. Yeah, I'm that lame. Wow! I wanna see it in anime too! Pretty long-haired Tezuka. Hehe! Yep, getting closer to MBW now, in my meandering ways. I made shameless use of Atobe's wealth, didn't I. *hangs head* Atobe-Tezuka? After my exam. I'm gonna be shot if I messed up my exam.


	12. Chapter 12

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 12**

Sanada, after several abortive attempts to ask about Tezuka, gave up eventually. The name brought bad reactions from Shiroi and other things he thought he should ask … he couldn't get his voice past his lips. In the end, he just settled for keeping an eye on Shiroi and tried to jog Tezuka's memory out of him.

He tried Tezuka's favourite food, not that he knew Tezuka well enough to know much. He left tennis magazines and equipment lying around. He even dug out his yearbook and left that on the table. There weren't any of Seigaku students in there, but he had hoped Tezuka remembered Rikkaidai players at least. None of it got any kind of reaction or recognition beyond curious disinterest.

He did make some interesting observations. Shiroi was intimidated by Sanada, especially when he found out Sanada was a police officer. Sanada, in turn, was surprised by Shiroi's attachment and affections towards Atobe. He supposed it was understandable, since Atobe, technically, saved him from an evil and cruel master.

After a week, Sanada and Shiroi settled into a routine of sorts. Learning to live with and around each other. He was an unobtrusive house guest. Sometimes, Sanada even forgot he was there. His meals got magically cooked, his laundry done, the trash cleared, the house cleaned.

Atobe, on the other hand, was impossible to ignore. He turned up randomly on weekdays, weekends, all hours of the day. He also had a tendency to indulge and pamper Shiroi. He visited often. He took Shiroi shopping, buying him new clothes, taking him out for ice-cream and cake, and other things Sanada would rather not know about. After Sanada walked in on Atobe and and a naked Shiroi, he told Atobe, under no circumstances would he tolerate such activities under his roof. Since then, Atobe had taken to booking hotel room whenever he visited. He refused to move Shiroi out of Sanada's house, forcing Sanada to become Shiroi's caretaker.

Even Yukimura had been amused when Sanada complained about Atobe's presumptions. When Atobe's invasion into his home became intolerable, Sanada would hole up in Yukimura's studio. Sitting among the half-finished artworks and artistic equipment, their voices mingled with the smell of paint and solvents. Yukimura always managed to soothe away Sanada's frustration.

Sometimes, they would go next door, to Niou's studio. He would be banging away at his project while keeping an ear on the conversion, adding little quips of his own that made Yukimura laughed. Unlike Yukimura's neatness, Niou's studio was chaotic, strewn with bits of metal, clay, wood and rubbish. Sanada called it rubbish while Niou insisted they were raw materials and artistic inspirations. Sanada would snipe back that worn out half-rotting rubber tires were neither artistic nor inspiring.

Twice a week, Sanada played tennis with Yagyuu. Yagyuu had taken up Law and joined the Public Prosecutors Office, which brought him into constant contact with Sanada on one case or another. Sanada often brought Shiroi with him, hoping that watching them play tennis might bring some of Tezuka's character or memories back. So far, Shiroi had not shown any indication that he remembered anything. This fed the niggling misgivings Sanada had about all this being some sick joke Atobe was playing on him. Sometimes, when Atobe joined them, throwing sarcastic remarks from the sidelines, it grew into full blown suspicions.

Predictably, it led to Sanada losing his temper and venting it by challenging Atobe to an all out match. Then, the two would trounce each other around the court until they were both sore and exhausted. Somehow, along that prolonged antagonistic proximity, Sanada and Atobe found that they did not mind it as much as they thought and looked forward to their weekly verbal and physical sparring.

Sanada still complained to Yukimura, but it was more from habit than actual dislike for Atobe. Niou off-handedly drove the last nail in, telling him that they sounded more like an old married couple than competitive rivals.

In the month of December, Atobe's visits stopped suddenly. With the year's end, came the final push for meeting revenue targets, sales quota, deadlines and closing of books. He was constantly on the move. Often, he went to sleep in a different time-zone from the one he woke up in.

After a week of absence, Sanada noticed Shiroi became more restless and agitated. He often caught the man staring expectantly at the door, awaiting his Keigo-sama. One time, Shiroi tried to seduce him. It shocked him more than he was willing to admit. After a short and rather rough rebuff, Shiroi took the hint and avoided him, to his relief.

Chalking that up as another of Shiroi's peculiarities, he immersed himself in his own work. Year end was also the busiest time in the precinct. Reports to be compiled, yearly kendo tournament to prepare, open house exhibitions to plan, along with Christmas and New Year parties to be organised. Most of these odd jobs were relegated to rookies like him. He often went home late, after Shiroi had gone to sleep. He was grateful that Shiroi always woke up early to prepare breakfast for him, allowing him to sleep later and longer. It became a routine for him to spend 15 minutes at breakfast, thank Shiroi and rush out the door.

One night, as Sanada prepared for sleep at 2am, he heard the front door opened and closed. He was surprised to find Shiroi, whom he thought was soundly asleep, dressed in street clothes reeking of alcohol and smoke. Shiroi bowed, apologised for disturbing Sanada and disappeared into his room. He refused to answer Sanada's queries about his whereabouts. Sanada would have dismissed it if the same thing had not happened again a few days later.

Curious and worried, Sanada begged a night off from the kendo master and tailed Shiroi. He followed Shiroi to a gay bar. Shiroi sat at the bar for 15 to 20 minutes, then left. He kept this up, moving from one bar to another. At the third bar, Sanada had had enough. He was about to reveal himself and dragged Shiroi home to explain himself, when a man walked up to Shiroi. They spoke for a few minutes. Sanada watched uncomfortably at the man's overly familiar behaviour towards Shiroi. He bought Shiroi a drink, placed his hand possessively over a knee and even caressed Shiroi's arm. Shiroi did not say much, nor did he protest the gestures. When the man stood up and slid his arm around Shiroi's waist, Shiroi rose gracefully and walked out with him. As they passed near Sanada's table, he noticed that the man's hand had migrated south, cupping Shiroi's butt.

Sanada was conflicted. It was obvious that Shiroi was being picked up for sex. If he was completely honest, it was Shiroi himself who was out looking for partners. He knew that Atobe had been sleeping with Shiroi. If Sanada had been so inclined, Shiroi would have been sharing his bed as well. Regardless of Sanada's personal view, Shiroi picking up partners was not, technically, against the law nor wrong. He was a consenting adult, not a minor. But that rational did nothing to suppress Sanada's urge to book the man under the every anti-vice law in the book. Even if Shiroi was paid for his services, of which Sanada was uncertain, the anti-vice law did not cover same-sex activities. Following them and interfering though, that was violation of privacy and professional ethics.

He followed the couple with his eyes until they vanished into a taxi. Then, with a disgusted snort, he headed home. He never thought he would admit it, but he wished Atobe would visit soon. Then, he did not have to worry about Shiroi wandering around unsavoury places.

Atobe woke up to the ominous opening of Beethoven's 5th Symphony on one of his numerous phones. Befuddled with sleep, he wondered if it was day or night and which country he was in. Deciding that somewhere English speaking was the most probable answer, he answered in English, "Hello. Atobe speaking."

"Atobe!" Sanada's voice was deep with a hint of annoyance. "When are you coming over?"

"Sanada, darling." He checked the time. A little after 3 am. "Missed ore-sama all ready, my dear?"

"Be serious! You better visit soon. Talk to Shiroi. He has been pining for you and running around red light district. Tell him to stop."

"Ahn? If you don't want him to roam around the streets, just bed him yourself." Atobe could imagine Sanada clenching his jaw. Smirking, he added, "Really, he's easier to take care of than a dog. He bathes, feeds and walks himself. He'll even bathe, feed and walk you too. It's guaranteed to be a very pleasurable experience."

"Damned it, Atobe. Don't apply your immoral ideas on me."

"Hedonistic ideals, Sanada. If you're going to swear at me, as least use the correct definition."

"Just talk to him. He listens to you."

"No use. Been there, done that. Just be grateful he doesn't bring his one-night-stand home. And they don't follow him home, threatening to break down the door. Well, except one. But I supposed Fuji was a special case."

"You must be joking! You knew this was going to happen and you don't do anything about it?"

"What about it? Just remind him to stay sober and don't let anyone give him drugs or cigarettes. Smoking is bad for health."

"What? He is taking drugs?"

"No, he's not. Sleeping with mongrels, he's bound to pick up fleas. Those mongrels gave him recreational pills sometimes. You know, the ones with tasteless, tacky names. Seriously, just remind him to throw it away and not to bring any of them home. You're a cop. I don't have to tell you how to frisk him. Hmm ... it will be pleasurable experience for both of you, I'm sure."

"Urk!"

Atobe smirked at the sound of Sanada choking. "Oh, while we're talking about it, make sure he has flea collars. Check for lice after he's been mixing with strays. Take him to the vet to make sure he doesn't catch rabies."

"What are you talking about? He's not a dog!" Sanada thought it was Atobe that needed to have his head examined.

"Euphemism too difficult for you? And here, I thought I was sparing your delicate ears." Atobe sighed dramatically. "I meant condoms, drugs from over-generous strangers and STDs."

"Can't you do anything to stop him? If he stayed home, he wouldn't be exposed to those ... things."

"Seriously, Sanada. Either lock him up or just fuck him all ready. I recommend the latter. Locking him up with make him antsy and miserable. Some tender loving care will keep him happy and home for a week or so. Unless you're less satisfying that I thought. Then it's probably better if you do it twice a week. I'm sure it will be very therapeutic for you. It'll even improve your non-existent sex life immensely."

"That is unacceptable. You ..."

Hearing Sanada bit off whatever he was about to say, Atobe grinned. "Oh my, Sanada. I didn't know you miss me so much. Just say the word, mon cheri. I'll arrange a nice warm bed -"

At the point, the line went dead. Sanada had hung up. Atobe slipped the phone under his pillow and snuggled back into his blankets. That was worth one hundred hellish firing-squad meetings his father put him through. Better than Swedish massages and an army of shrinks. Smiling sleepily, he thought Sanada was the best de-stresser on the planet. And Sanada wasn't even on his expense account. Atobe thought himself a genius for thinking up that brilliant move.

After his frustrating conversation with Atobe, Sanada had no choice but to speak to Shiroi directly. Normally blunt and straight-forward, he was not comfortable speaking about this kind of topic. Seeing that Atobe had no intention of visiting till well after the New Year, or even later, he had to do something.

As he dragged himself to the kitchen in the early morning, he groaned and thought Shiroi had spoilt him in the short time Shiroi had lived with him. Shiroi prepared breakfast for Sanada every morning, packed two-tier bento for lunch and cooked dinner. He bought groceries and kept the house clean and tidy. There was little for Sanada to do when his weekend housekeeping rolled around.

_This is what life is like if you have a little wife_, a suspiciously Atobe-like voice whispered in his head.

Shiroi was surprised to find Sanada waiting for him. The table was set with breakfast steaming gently in the cold morning air.

"Shiroi." Sanada cleared his throat nervously. "There's something I want to talk to you about. That is ..."

"Sanada-san does not want Shiroi to go out at night," Shiroi pre-empted. He lowered his head. "Shiroi apologise for causing trouble to Sanada-san."

"You don't sound surprised."

"Keigo-sama doesn't like it when Shiroi pleasures other men. Sanada-san is much like Keigo-sama."

Sanada's thoughts whirled at those simple statements. He didn't want to think Atobe had anything in common with himself at all. He shook his head. Now was not the time to think about such things.

"Then you'll stay home?" Sanada said hopefully. "You wouldn't want to displease Atobe."

Shiroi bit his lower lip. He had tried to stay home as long as he could. He thought Keigo-sama wouldn't mind if it was Sanada. But Sanada had been upset by Shiroi's initial offer. Shiroi did not want to offend Sanada again. It wasn't so bad when Keigo-sama visited regularly. His presence acted as release valve against the pressure of his ingrained conditioning.

Sanada had been kind enough to let Shiroi stay in his home. On top of that, Shiroi had troubled him with his night time activities. Shiroi felt terrible that he had been useless to Sanada and had caused nothing but trouble. He did not even know how to thank Sanada. The only way Shiroi knew how ... Sanada had rejected it out of hand, even seemed repulsed by it. It hurt. Shiroi was not used to being rejected or thought repulsive. Most men and women lusted him, and found him attractive. It was against everything he was taught and trained in to be undesirable.

"It would be better if Shiroi move out. Shiroi do not want to trouble Sanada-san anymore. Shiroi sorry."

Sanada was speechless for a moment. "N-no. That's not it. I ... I don't like it when other people are taking advantage of you. You might get hurt." _Ah, this is bad_, thought Sanada. _Atobe would have a fit if Shiroi disappears again. .. Wait, when did I become obligated to Atobe. No, that's not it. __**I**__ would be troubled if Shiroi disappears. Knowing how he is like, it would be unthinkable._

"Sanada-san ..."

"Stay here. I would be more worried if you go away. Don't worry about me. We'll figure something out. Even if I have to drag Atobe back here by his ear."

In the end, there was nothing Sanada could do except grit his teeth and try not to be too bothered. Shiroi renewed his efforts. While Sanada was aware that nothing had changed, Shiroi hid his activities from his immediate notice. He never did catch Shiroi going out or coming home again. And despite Atobe's warning, he never caught Shiroi under the influence of drugs or liquor neither.

* * *

**Response to Reviewers:**

**jadeskye79** : Poor Sanada. *evil laugh*

**Aan** : It would sound really bad to say I'm happy I made you cry … so I'm just going to you. Thank you. Wouldn't want you to think I forgot about Asakura, though he is supposed to be minor-minor character.

**Kamu**: Muchas gracias for the link. Tezuka does make a pretty girl. :D

**geecee**: Yay! You made it! Poor Oishi. It's been many years, so I can't blame Sanada for forgetting. Atobe, of course, got a refresher when he looked up Sanada and Tezuka's numbers. Ow! Atobe-muse is not pleased I let his secret out (-_-;). I can't help thinking … What do they feed these kids? They're really tall for 14/15 year olds. Atobe has European genes, so I gave him a late growth spurt. Can't help fretting if 10cm in 5 years is too much …You're not pushy at all. I'm flattered you think I write Atobe well. He actually gave me quite a bit of trouble to get into his head.


	13. Chapter 13

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 13**

On the eve of the New Year, Sanada brought Shiroi with him when he went back to his family home in Kamakura for the holidays.

His mother and sister-in-law peered excitedly at Shiroi as Sanada drove in. It was rare for Sanada to bring home a friend, much less a girl. They speculated on Sanada's girl friend till he parked the car in the drive way, next to his brother's. They watched expectantly as Shiroi exited the car. There was a collective silence as his family took in Shiroi's clothes, flat chest and obviously male gender.

His sister-in-law ran forward to pinch him playfully. "You got us all excited for nothing! When are you going to bring home your girlfriend?"

Sanada merely frown and muttered he did not have time for such nonsense. Then, he introduced Shiroi to the family. Shiroi bowed deeply to his family, nervously holding on to his braid. But he was the picture of perfectly polite house guest.

His mother was utterly charmed and welcomed Shiroi warmly into their home. His sister-in-law latched on and immediately started 'getting to know' Shiroi. Leaving Sanada and his brother to deal with the luggage.

After everyone had settled down, Sanada brought Shiroi to the dojo where his grandfather was holding kendo lessons. They sat at a corner until Ojiisan dismissed the class. Then Sanada introduced Shiroi as their unexpected house guest to his Ojiisan. Ojiisan took Shiroi's presence in stride, eliciting no more than a sharp glance. They helped the old man to clean up and lock up the dojo. Sanada, with some guilty twinge, realised his grandfather was growing old. Despite being in good health and very fit for his age, he was slowing down. Suddenly, he wasn't sure if bringing Shiroi with him was a good idea after all. What kind of effect would Shiroi have on his Ojiisan?

As soon as they got back, Shiroi was immediately pounced on and gleefully pulled into the kitchen. Both mother and daughter-in-law had caught on that Shiroi was living in Sanada's bachelor pad, knew how to cook, and was more than willing to gossip about Sanada's bachelor lifestyle. A very delightful plus, in both women's mind, considering how tight-lip Sanada could be about his own affairs.

Ojiisan merely grunted and moved to the tea room where Sanada's father was doing some light reading with a pot of tea. By force of habit, Sanada immediately took out two more tea cups and poured for all three of them. His father closed his book, cocking his head at the voices coming from the back, accurately pinpointing Shiroi's location.

"So," Ojiisan said with a frown, "is that Tezuka's boy?"

Sanada coughed uncomfortably. His grandfather and father caught the resemblance too quickly. He had nursed some small hope that they would not recognise Shiroi as Tezuka. There by, reinforcing his suspicion that Atobe was insane and quite lost all his marbles.

"He looked like Kuniharu when he was young." His father was referring to Tezuka's father. Ojiisan and Tezuka's grandfather had been old friends. His father and Tezuka's father had met on many occasions when they were still students.

"Is he related to the Tezuka family?" asked his grandfather.

Sanada turned the tea cup uncomfortably. "Is the family resemblance that obvious?"

Ojiisan grunted. "I've known Tezuka for a long time. And I've seen his grandson a few times too. You probably don't remember. You used to learn shogi together."

"Ha!" said his father. "More like fight every time they meet. When it's not shogi, it's kendo. Your mother had to patch both of you up after you bashed each other with practice shinai and got banned from playing in the dojo."

"What about the time they fought while playing at judo and fell into the pond."

"Otousan! Ojiisan!" Really, this was why he did not want to bring guests home. His family were too prone to bringing up embarrassing childhood incidents. It wasn't fair. There was a huge age gap between himself and his elder brother. So much so, he had become the baby in the family. Even to his sister-in-law had taken baby-sitting duty for elementary school aged Sanada.

"Yes," his father ignored his ineffectual protest. "We were quite relieved when both of them decided to take up tennis and whacked each other with a soft furry ball."

"As long as there's a net between them and they stand at least 3 meters apart, they can't kill each other with tennis." Ojiisan quoted Sanada's mother.

"Ah, it was quite embarrassing. Every time Tezuka-san visited, his grandson went home with a band-aid, a new bruise or a new change of clothes. Though your mother was quite relieved both of you were the same size so she could lend Tezuka-kun your clothes."

"Genichirou must have been seven or eight?"

"They made quite a lively pair."

"Aa. Aa."

At that point, Sanada had been reduced to an eight-year-old puddle of goo wishing he could erase those memories from both father and grandfather.

"So," his father suddenly brought the teasing to a halt. "Who is the young man, Genichirou?"

Sanada cursed himself for being caught off guard. He had to remember his father was still a formidable police officer. "He is .. umm ... It's complicated. That is, Atobe thinks he is Tezuka Kunimitsu, Tezuka-Ojiisan's grandson."

"Who is this Atobe? And why does he 'think' so? Either he is or he isn't."

"Atobe is an old friend from Tokyo, back in Junior High."

"Atobe ... Atobe ... Don't remember anyone of that name," muttered his father.

"There is!" Another voice piped in. A lanky teenage boy poked his head in. "It's that super rich boy Ojisan plays tennis with."

"Sasuke!" yelled Sanada at his nephew. But the boy had ran off. He wished he could erase _that_ memory from his own mind.

"Ah! That kid from Tokyo camp that you played doubles with. I heard you got along well with him. You should invite him home some time."

"Aa." In his heart, it was a resounding '_no, over my dead body!_'. He shuddered at the thought of Atobe accumulating new ammunitions to snipe at him.

"So, is Shiroi Tezuka-kun or not?"

"That is ... I'm not sure. Atobe is convinced Shiroi is Tezuka. But Shiroi is not acting like Tezuka and he had not even admitted to being Tezuka within my hearing. It's all hearsay from Atobe."

"Except the face," said Ojiisan.

"There's no solid proof. Though Atobe said one of Tezuka's old friends agreed with him and found the same mark on his head as Tezuka."

"Still hearsay and circumstantial. You could run a fingerprint match," his father said speculatively.

Now, why didn't he think of that? He really wanted to whack himself for not thinking of it before his father.

"You could run it through the criminal records first. Less red tape. But I guess if he's never been arrested, the Police would not have a record," Ojiisan added.

"Kunimitsu-kun is Tezuka's boy," said his father. "He won't have a criminal record, 'Tousan."

_"Kami-sama, I hope not! Atobe would have some stupid comment if he did and I didn't check up on it first._" Sanada clenched his teeth and kept his peace.

"Aa," said his grandfather. "The next option is to get old records, from the bank or hospital where he was born."

"That would require a lawyer and more red tape."

"I think I can check with the bank."

Both older men turned to look at at him.

"Umm ... some of the banks anyway," Sanada explained. "Atobe has contacts in there."

Sanada's father nodded. "I thought the Tezuka boy went to Europe."

"Aa. That's what I heard. When did he come back, Genichirou?" asked Ojiisan.

"Atobe said Tezuka never left. He was in the accident, in the hospital."

"In the hospital? Well! I will have a few words with Kamiya for not telling me this," groused Ojiisan.

"Did anyone took legal guardianship of him?" asked his father.

"Umm ... I don't know."

"It would be a grave oversight. If Tezuka-kun got lost in the system. He should still be under-aged."

"What is the normal procedure?"

"I'm not too sure. The hospital or traffic division will try to contact immediate family. After that, I supposed they will try the school or other relatives."

"But ... we had graduated by then. He wasn't a Seigaku student any more."

"For now, it's better to treat Shiroi as Shiroi. Unless he brings up Tezuka-kun himself, it would be rude to our guest to force him to reveal something he did not wish to. And let me remind you again, he is our guest, first and foremost. Not a suspect."

With that, Sanada's grandfather closed the speculation and discussion on Shiroi.

In the end, despite three generations of police-trained Sanada watching him, Shiroi gave no indication of being or knowing Tezuka. Nothing to show his prior familiarity with the Sanada family residence or any memory or knowledge that Tezuka would be familiar with, but Shiroi would be ignorant of.

In the meantime, despite the holiday season, Sanada managed to obtain answers from the crime labs with some help from his father's connections. Shiroi did not have a criminal record nor on the wanted list. For which Sanada was much relieved. He would have not have to deal with ethical, personal and professional dilemma of harbouring a wanted person.

The bank check however, took a few days longer. It was Asakura who sent the documents by secured courier. It confirmed his prints as Tezuka Kunimitsu, based on a child's joint savings account opened when he was 6 years old.

When Tezuka's identity was confirmed biometrically, Sanada's father nodded his head in admiration. If Tezuka had been an undercover agent insert, his Shiroi act and cover was flawless and solidly perfect.

Sanada wished Atobe would return soon. The current impasse should not drag on indefinitely. Not for his sanity's sake. Knowing Shiroi was Tezuka was different from suspecting Shiroi was Tezuka. He really did not know how he could or should deal with Shiroi's peculiar needs. He did consider moving Shiroi to his parents' home, which should at least provide some social benefits to being isolated in Sanada's lonely apartment. Besides, his mother and sister-in-law would be gentler and more sensitive caretakers than his bang-up job, muddling through as best he can.

On second thought, there were some peculiarities to Shiroi that he didn't think Tezuka would want to be known to his family. Actually, the less people know about it, the better. As far as his family and friends knew, Shiroi may be Tezuka who have suffered complete memory loss.

He fervently hoped Atobe had a plan. Preferably a sane, logical, low-impact, well thought out plan. But when it came to Atobe, even he had to admit that 'sane' and 'low-key' would be a tall order. He would rather trade 'sane' for 'soon' anyway, at this point.

* * *

**Note:**  
Okay. Public Service Announcement. This fic is rated M for a reason. There's no explicit smut and no gory details of exploding guts, no swearing (well mild swearing). But it has mature themes and bits of mentally disturbing stuff that don't fit into polite conversation. Things like sex, prostitution, self-harm, mental and physical abuse, psychological dysfunction. Just a gentle reminder, dear readers, before you proceed to the next chapter.

* As far as I know, Japanese citizens do not have identification card. Japanese passport also does not have fingerprint records. However, fingerprints are commonly used by banks, especially for young children and modern ATMs as added security measure against ATM thefts.

* Some hospitals take babies fingerprints to prevent confusion.

**Response to Reviews:**

**geecee**: Yay! Review #50! Early and second reviews too!

I had problem updating last chapter and this one. Sent email to support, but I don't see any improvement. Anyway, I managed to bypass the story list page and go straight to Story Contents page by using my browser history. Just replace STORYID with whole bunch of numbers from the normal chapter view.  
login. fanfiction. net/ story/story_edit_content ?storyid=STORYID

Looks like the create new story has problems too. Probably due to the broken Story Properties. Upload of files is working fine. Otherwise, I'd suggest using existing chapter, export it and edit the file in Document Manager. Heh! Looks like the search engine is broken too.

Tenipuri appearance, the irony is, Tezuka doesn't actually look the oldest, despite the in-joke about his looking 30. Kabaji looked like closer to 40. And yeah! Sanada 30. Haha!

**Aan**: I am bad. And there are worse things ahead. Shiroi – I did choose his name for several reasons. I'm so happy you gave it so much thought. He is the most innocent and sinful character in here. I just love the paradox. Though I consider him amoral.

**Jadeskye79** : Sanada is so much fun to torture. Poor guy.

**Kamu** : I like to see my favourite characters suffer too!


	14. Chapter 14

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 14**

Atobe returned in the middle of January. At that point, Sanada had given up on complaining about it. He was just thankful it was January, instead of February, like Atobe threatened.

He had, however, blocked the door as soon as Atobe turned up. Then he proceeded to extract a promise from Atobe to fix Shiroi's roving needs during his unavailability. Permanently.

Atobe merely sighed as sigh that said 'wuss', then invited Sanada to have a meaningful, civil and adult discussion with Shiroi. About 10 minutes in, Sanada was decidedly green and excused himself to go for a long complicated errand. While he was not blissfully ignorant to the gay community and sex entertainment industry in the country, he would rather not know the detailed mechanics of what happens behind closed doors.

It was all very disturbing to him. Shiroi being very open and matter-of-fact and _earnest _to explain. With a certain level of pride and frankness, if he was honest in his assessment. Atobe was slightly discomfited, judging by the tautness around his eyes. To his credit, he still gamely forged on to get to the root of the problem. Sanada was convinced he would rather not know the details, for the sake of his sanity, as long as the problem was no longer a problem. He did not care what Atobe came up with as long as he came up with something that worked.

Thinking of his sanity, he decided Atobe was right. At much as he hated to admit it, he decided to take Atobe's advice. Think of Shiroi as Shiroi, not Tezuka as Shiroi. Like somehow someone had taken Tezuka's body and swapped Shiroi's brain in his head. _But what happens when you swap Tezuka's brain back in, _his conscience was obligated to ask. _Is that even possible?_his brain wanted to know.

By the time he came back, Atobe and Shiroi were gone. To Atobe's normal haunt, Sanada presumed.

After the prissy Sanada left, Atobe was displeased at being left to deal with the issue on his own. His ire was somewhat mollified by Sanada's utter discomfort and definitely nauseous expression. Listening and questioning as calmly as he could, he did sympathise with Sanada. He discovered more aspects of Shiroi's conditioning that left him quite outraged. Enough that he wanted to break furniture.

After Shiroi's debut, which Atobe gathered to be an euphemism for auctioning off Shiroi's virginity to the highest bidder, he must and was expected to have sex at least once a day. But Shiroi was special and was given 2 off days a year for some reason Atobe could not fathom and Shiroi was reluctant to elaborate on.

It started as a mental indoctrination before his debut. As part of his grooming or training. There were daily lessons in how he should care for his body, lectures and demonstrations on physiology of male bodies. Even realistic replicas of male genitalia in various shapes, sizes and condition for him to familiarise with. A whole module on the differences when serving a circumcised and an uncircumcised man. Poise and body language for flirting, seducing and arousing. Shadowing sessions where he watched another courtesan at work. All that, to prepare him for his debut. For, as long as he was a virgin, he must not touch or be touched by a man the way the courtesans did with their patrons.

After his debut, all the restrictions were lifted. He was even encouraged to practice and experiment with the other dolls. A form of twisted aversion therapy was used to set the habit. Normally this type of therapy was used to stop an addiction such as drugs, alcoholism and smoking by giving the substance unpleasant association. In Shiroi's case, sexual activities were positively reinforced with approvals, praises and made extremely pleasurable. Probably with the use of non-addictive chemicals and prostate massager. When he abstained for 24 hours, by design or by accident, he was given emetic drugs. It caused vomiting, discomfort, anxiety and depression. Eventually, he associated those discomfort with abstinence. The end product - dolls who were addicted to sex, without any kind of physical substance or scars.

It was ingenious, thought Atobe, in a really sick way.

When the imprint was deeply set, it was tested by withholding sex. The cycle of punishment, positive reinforcement, rewards and testing continued till Shiroi became anxious, alarmed, desperate, finally to the point of physical withdrawal-like reaction. It was all in the head, as far as Atobe could tell. Though he would not be surprised if there were some chemicals involved in the process.

One thing Atobe was thankful for, Shiroi's Master or trainers were quite fastidious against drug addiction among their dolls. According to Shiroi, the stoned dolls gave unhealthy appearance and were rarely aware enough to properly serve their customers. It reduced their quality to cheap street whores. Even worse, it gave bad taste and odours to body fluids in the male dolls. The Master could not completely control what happen to the dolls when they were servicing their clients. So, the dolls, especially the new ones, had detailed debriefing after every assignment and they had to report all the things they had ingested or given. Sometimes, the Master would fine the clients for violating the terms of contract. Sometimes, in the really bad and repeat cases, they were blacklisted and no longer accepted as clients. For the dolls, they had to go through purging process and taken off assignments till their bodies had been purified.

Shiroi himself had been through several such purifications early in his career. But experience and confidence in his own power of seduction and persuasion had reduced such cases drastically. While he could not refuse outright, he could try his best to change the client's mind and even distract him from such a course.

Atobe was beyond furious. He tried several things to counter that nasty piece of programming. He told Shiroi that Shiroi was only allowed to have sex when and how he wanted, not at least once a day. Shiroi was expected NOT to go off with just anyone that was so rude as to propositioned him without Atobe's consent and knowledge. He took liberal advantage being thought Shiroi's 'master'. After all, Shiroi was expected to give absolute obedience to his 'master' or 'owner'.

While he had committed himself to help Shiroi achieve independence, he was very reluctant to give any kind of direct order to Shiroi. But this was one exception. That, at least took the edge off Shiroi's compulsion.

Besides, Sanada's concern mirrored his own, as much as he hated to admit it. Countering this need would keep Shiroi from risky elements. Though he had figured out in the beginning that Shiroi was pretty street smart and very selective about the men Shiroi chose to associate with. Shiroi knew how to navigate the night life. He could diffuse potentially difficult situations with shrewd judgement, and liberal application of sex appeal, flirtation and coyness.

It was something Atobe had to keep reminding himself of. Shiroi was not as helpless as he seemed. Or as Sanada assumed. He wasn't too worried about Shiroi's safety, though he had wilfully withheld that piece of information from Sanada. As long Shiroi had a clear directive about what was required of him, he could probably deal with people better than Tezuka. He could get whatever he wanted and be adored in the process.

On the other hand. Atobe was selfish enough to want to keep Shiroi to himself, but not possessive or jealous enough to demand it. After all, he himself was a practitioner of no-strings-attached casual sex. There was no way he would even admit to wanting or requiring Shiroi to be exclusively his.

'_Shiroi can't be yours, Keigo. Don't forget that he is Tezuka,'_his conscience reminded him. As disturbing as that was ... it was an important reason why he had to break or at least work around that conditioning. At least for Tezuka's sake, if and when Tezuka decided to come back to the real world.

A minor point, which Atobe needed to point out to himself, was that, if he was successful, he would keep Sanada happy. And Sanada would 'owe' him one. Keeping Sanada happy was important at this point. He can't keep Shiroi in Tokyo. Most of ex-Seigaku students still live in Tokyo and another incident could happen again, causing Shiroi to run away. He also can't move his base of operation out of Tokyo without proper justification. Besides, Asakura and himself had their own work to do that involved being away for long periods of time.

Sanada, on the other hand, was quite local and a homebody. He quadrupled up as bodyguard, caretaker, nanny and chaperone quite nicely. His badge would ensure some superficial protection for Shiroi. Being such a strict traditionally upright person, Sanada would feel protective of Shiroi and at the same time, be immune to Shiroi's charms. Best of all, he was incorruptible, out of the Atobe clan's network and not part of Atobe's payroll. Sanada neatly solved much of Atobe's problems about keeping his books completely clean, scandal free and above board.

The problem was, Shiroi's situation in Sanada's home was unhealthy. Sanada was being over-protective and Shiroi's life had reverted from learning to be self-sufficient and building his own life to being mostly house-bound. Not that Sanada would even imagine locking Shiroi away. Shiroi could still go out whenever he wanted, but he had only done so for errands. And he had stopped making new friends. The risk of meeting someone like Fuji still frightened him. Still, it came to the same thing. A virtual prison.

In addition, Sanada was not a patient man. Eventually, Sanada would demand that Atobe do something about Tezuka. Or Sanada would take actions himself. Which could be disastrous, considering how awkward and insensitive he was when dealing with Shiroi's delicate problems.

For now, Atobe consoled himself, he simply had to take care of one problem at a time. The solution, strangely enough, did not come from him, but from Shiroi himself.

It might just work, he thought as Asakura gave him sunglasses and insisted on confiscating all his credit cards and chequebook, and putting in wads of cash he had taken out of his own wallet. A loan, was how Asakura framed it, because Atobe Keigo was not in the habit of carrying much cash with him. So, Asakura, or whoever was with him had better be prepared. Atobe went along, knowing Asakura was probably right to take precautions, considering their destination.

The pink rabbit with a bow-tie signboard was a dead give away. If it had been too discreet, there was a window display of fantastically creative lingerie to clue in the oblivious. They featured liberal use of ribbons, lace and feathers, with bare minimum or complete absence of fabric. For the truly ignorant and innocent, the 5 metre slitted noren hanging over the entrance should quickly educate them. 99 positions in detailed brightly coloured illustrations. You can't get into the shop without touching at least one unmentionable.

He quirked an eyebrow. He should get one for Sanada and helpfully hang it over, say, Sanada's bedroom door. No, toilet was better. A man can't live without toilet and some helpful reminders to enjoy himself. But only because Atobe was feeling generous and bored. He grinned wickedly. After all, Sanada needed to be 'punished' for abandoning him to deal with Shiroi all by himself.

Shiroi was looking at the noren with a curious eye, row by row. Then Atobe heard him counting softly under his breath. Oh!

"Shiroi like that one!" Atobe heard beside him. A choking sound exploded on his other side. At that point, he decided they had been gawking long enough and boldly pushed his way in.

It was interesting to watch Asakura trying to do his job properly and still avoid looking too closely at the merchandises on display. His eyes swept the empty spaces between the aisles. Checked the counter, note the workers, scrutinise the back entrance, the closed storage door, the lack of customers ... Strictly not looking at the shelves. At least, not long enough to register in his brain.

Shiroi was the complete opposite. He was like a kid loose in a candy store. He went straight to the shelves, checking various gadgets and accessories. He excitedly exclaimed over this and that item. Some he had tried, some that he had only heard of. Some he thought Keigo-sama might like. Some he thought Keigo-sama might like to use on him.

Atobe smiled indulgently and paid due attention to Shiroi's enthusiasm. No, he was not the least uncomfortable or embarrassed. It was interesting and very educational. Not even he had as much technical expertise as Shiroi in this area. And of course, watching Asakura was very entertaining too. Now, if he could lure Sanada in there ...

Shiroi had moved to the next shelf. He picked up and handed a realistic looking phallic object to Atobe. Asakura, because it _was_his job, (in case it was a bomb or poison), immediately checked out Atobe's hands and coughed rather violently.

Atobe smirked. "Isn't a little big?"

Shiroi thought for a moment. He nodded thoughtfully and put it back. He picked out another model in smaller size. "It is battery operated." He pressed a button and held the vibrating object up to eye level to check its mechanism. His long fingers slowly and carefully to feel the effectiveness. Very professional, was the first thought that popped into Atobe's mind. Like a crafts master appraising a potential tool.

Atobe watched Asakura turned white, then red, then green. "It will do," grinned Atobe. "It has remote control."

Shiroi nodded eagerly. He turned it off. Then he glanced longingly at the other shelves.

Atobe could practically hear the thoughts running through Shiroi's head. They were supposed to get that one item. But since they were all ready there ...

* * *

"Is there anything else you would like to get?"

Shiroi beamed and nodded eagerly. He looked back and forth. His hands were occupied. He can't pick up a new item. Atobe solved it for him by taking it off him and putting it in Asakura's hand. Asakura went completely white. Then stiffly marched to a stack of baskets. He dumped the item into a basket like it was radioactive.

Atobe chuckled to himself as Shiroi thanked Asakura for his thoughtfulness and proceeded to hand a few more things to him. Finally, he thought Asakura had suffered enough and the tally just about reached the limited cash available in his ... ahem... Asakura's wallet. He paid for the purchases and was given a VIP card.

He can't wait for Sanada to 'trip over' one of Shiroi's toys. For a moment, he was sorry he could not install a spy-cam in Sanada's house to capture the moment. Asakura would never agree to such a thing. It was his job to keep Atobe scrupulously scrupulous.

After they dropped off Shiroi, Atobe drove back to Tokyo. That was, Asakura drove and Atobe enjoyed the scenery.

"Master Keigo, how does this help Shiroi?"

"It helps Shiroi by giving one less headache to his babysitter."

"I mean, really help Shiroi ..."

"Patience. One problem at a time, my friend. One problem at a time."

* * *

**Notes:**  
* Emetics - Drugs the induces vomiting and other unpleasant side effects.  
* Noren - traditional Japanese fabric dividers, hung in doorways. Have one or more vertical slits cut from the bottom to nearly the top of the fabric, allowing for easier passage.  
* Aversion therapy - form of psychological treatment where patient is exposed to a stimulus while simultaneously being subjected to some form of discomfort.  
* prostate massager - a device inserted into the anus to stimulate prostate glands for medical or sexual reasons.

**Response to Reviewers:**  
Okay, here ends the pre-written contiguous part, with major editing. The next chapters are currently in skeletal or fragmented form, which I will try my best to finish at least one chapter a week.

Aan : Poor long suffering Sanada. I gave him a break this chapter. Glad you like their childhood history. Their rivalry ran far back in history. It's Friday, so hopefully I made it in time. Good luck in your exams!  
Kamu : Hmm … maybe I should reword that as 'gentle warning' instead of 'gentle reminder'. :D

geecee : Hehe! Please, spam reviews as much as you like. I heart them all, especially from my regulars.

Sanada's soon-to-be-wife? OMG! That pushes all kinds of kink buttons.

The possibilities of Sanada family dynamics amuse me when I found out he is youngest child and his nephew is only 9 years younger than him.

Poor Atobe, Sanada would have done his best to prevent his name to ever be mentioned to any member of his family.

Bingo! More Shiroi details this time, to explain some of Atobe's attitude and Sanada's sufferings.


	15. Chapter 15

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 15**

Things quieten down a little after that. Sanada still brought Shiroi to tennis games with Yagyuu. Atobe still gate-crashed their games. Yukimura got earfuls of Sanada's complaints. Sanada went home more often during weekends because his family wanted to see Shiroi again.

Atobe tricked Sanada into Shiroi's room, hence discovering Shiroi's new toys. That got Atobe banned from Sanada's home for a week. Sanada moved all his work materials from the study to his own bedroom and the study became Shiroi's room exclusively.

When Atobe was allowed back, he criticised Sanada's interior design as boring and pedestrian. He threatened to redecorate Sanada's place for him. Sanada made the mistake of dismissing it. One late evening, he came home to find Atobe had come during the day with a weirdo and turned his home into a pastel pink and purple boudoir worthy of the fabled harems in Arabian Nights. Atobe even thoughtfully added enlarged 17th century shunga ukiyo-e artworks depicting erotica of the Edo-period's floating world.

Precisely 5 minutes later, after Sanada had had a complete meltdown, Asakura knocked on his door to hand him a large metal bucket, a pair of yellow rubber gloves and a bottle of kerosene. He gave Sanada a sympathetic pat. Then, as silently as he appeared, he disappeared into the night again. Sanada spent a sleepless night tearing down every gay item imaginable and burned them with a vengeance. Atobe even had his pyjamas replaced with lacy purple atrocities. Shiroi wisely kept to his room while Sanada cursed and rampaged outside.

Atobe was again banned from Sanada's home and Yukimura saw more of Sanada than he did in the last 3 months combined. Niou finished a rude sculpture titled _Emperor and King_. It was ambiguous if the two nude figures were jerking each other off or biting and yanking each other's cock in really dirty form of wresting. It was four weeks before Sanada allowed Atobe back into his home.

Through it all, Shiroi remained Shiroi and there was not even a shadow wisp of Tezuka to be seen.

At the end of March, Sanada began to notice something that disturbed him. Shiroi seemed to have fallen into depression and remained silent and withdrawn. He looked stressed and anxious, that Sanada began to wonder if someone had been bullying him. Atobe had also noticed. He manufactured a complicated but potentially lucrative investment in Kanagawa that gave him excuse to spend days there for business reasons. Together, with Asakura filling in during office hours, they kept a closer eye on Shiroi.

On April 2nd, Sanada woke up to strange sounds coming from Shiroi's room. From past experience, he knew better than to go in when he heard things and he never ever entered unannounced. Even though Shiroi did not mind the least, Sanda minded enough for both of them. But that morning, it had a violently urgent quality to it that Sanada could not ignore.

He knocked on the door and asked if Shiroi was all right. He was answered by a deeper voice that angrily demanded to be released.

Sanada turned the door knob to find it locked. That in itself was unusual. When he asked Shiroi to opened the door, a voice, distinctly not Shiroi's again demanded to be released. At that point, he dug out the spare keys and opened the door.

Shiroi was crouched by the window, handcuffed to the grill. Both wrists were rubbed raw and spotted with blood where he had been pulling and trying to free his hands.

"Shiroi!" Sanada was appalled. "What have you done?"

"Who are you?" demanded not-Shiroi. "Let me go!"

"Wait. Where's the key?" Sanada looked around frantically.

The other man narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but calmed down. "He is not very original. Try looking under the pillow."

"If you are not Shiroi ... are you Tezuka?" asked Sanada as he searched around the bed.

"I am Tezuka," said the man. "Who are you? Why did you lock me here?"

"I didn't. Tezuka, it's me. Sanada. Don't you remember?"

"No. I don't know you."

Sanada found the key inside the pillow case. Tezuka flinched as Sanada bent over to unlock his cuffs. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

Tezuka scrambled away from Sanada as soon as he was freed.

Sanada watched Tezuka go for Shiroi's wallet and notebook. Checking for cash and frowning. The posture and body language were different from Shiroi. Not only that, his attitude was completely different too. He ignored the wounds on his wrists, absently rubbing the raw skin and smearing the blood. Shiroi would have been frantic, carefully tending even the smallest scratch on his skin.

Tezuka took Shiroi's wallet and headed out.

"Wait!" Sanada grabbed his shirt.

Quick as a viper, Tezuka turned and Sanada felt his legs gave way under him. He lay on the ground with Tezuka's thumb pressed uncomfortably against his windpipe, partially cutting off his airflow. He remained still. At that angle, it took very little force for Tezuka to seriously injure him, or worse, kill him. Tezuka watched him nervously. Then, much to Sanada's relief, straightened up and left.

Sanada lay dazed, watching Tezuka's bare feet disappear through the bedroom door. A passing thought noted that he had see that move before; in police dojo where they trained riot police and special ops. It was self-defence and arresting techniques that were completely illegal in sports arena. He never considered Tezuka as unarmed and dangerous. He had to re-assess his assumptions.

He shook himself and quickly followed after Tezuka, taking his wooden bokken practice sword off its wall mount. He had a real katana, but under the circumstances, he dismissed it as too dangerous. For once, he was grateful all the keys in the house looked the same. Tezuka was delayed, trying to find the right key to unlock the door.

"Move away from the door."

Tezuka gave him a disdainful look and went on with his task.

"Stop, Tezuka!" Sanada tapped the tip of his bokken on the hand holding the keys. The keys dropped with a ringing clatter.

Tezuka flatted his lips and his stance turned offensive.

For a disconcerting moment, Sanada felt his life threatened. "Look, I'm not trying to hold you. Just talk to me so I can help you."

Tezuka hesitated, but did not make further move.

Sanada considered that a small improvement. "Where are you going? What are you trying to do?"

"Where am I? Tokyo? Osaka?"

"Yokohama."

"I have to go to Tokyo."

"Can it wait? Tomorrow?"

"No. Now! Train station, where?"

"I'll drive you. Just give me a few minutes to change. You can eat breakfast first."

Tezuka eyed him suspiciously, like he might be trying to trick him.

"I promise I'm not trying to hurt you. Trust me." He set the bokken aside for emphasis.

"Hurry up."

Sanada never thought he would be so glad to see Atobe. After he had made sure they both boarded the train and Tezuka was stuck with him for at least half an hour, he called Atobe. The man was parked directly outside the train exit when they came out. Tezuka stopped in his tracks when he saw Atobe.

"Do you remember him?" asked Sanada.

"Atobe," said Tezuka softly.

For inexplicable reason, Sanada felt slighted that Tezuka remembered Atobe, but not him.

Asakura opened the door for them, giving Tezuka puzzled glances.

"This is Tezuka," Sanada said, by way of warning. He wasn't sure how safe it was to bring up Shiroi's name. Shiroi was nervous and fearful whenever Tezuka's name came up.

"I am Asakura. Where are we going?"

"Tamiyama Park, please." Tezuka gave Asakura detailed directions that underscored his familiarity with that part of the city.

Asakura turned to Atobe, not quite sure how to respond to this extraordinary side of Shiroi.

Atobe simply told him to drive. Then, he thoughtfully passed two bento boxes to the back seat.

Sanada ate his hungrily. He had forgo breakfast for fear Tezuka would leave without him.

Tezuka simply picked at his food and set it aside after a few minutes.

Atobe was strangely quiet, staring aimlessly out the window. Sanada was disturbed and confused. Asakura was also confused, but trying to act normally.

Tezuka was tense, though he was slightly more relaxed when he saw Atobe. Still, he watched the streets and road signs warily with one hand on the door handle. He looked ready to pop open the door and jump out at any moment. Occasionally, he spoke up when Asakura turned into an unfamiliar street. After a few times, with Asakura patiently explaining that the roads had changed, he accepted the slight detour to his directions.

When they arrived, Tezuka led them deep into the neat rows of tombstones. It was quiet and peaceful, with a few early joggers passing through the tree-lined main path. Tezuka stopped in front of one. It was made of granite, with marble clad shelf in front and a tall long wooden board at the back. The wooden marker bore both his parents' names. The side of the granite headstone was engraved with his grandparents' name. His grandfather's name still bore traces of red paint that had been scraped out upon his death.

Tezuka knelt reverently before the family grave. He placed his hands, palms together, and bowed.

Sanada knew there was an opening somewhere under the headstone where the ashes of the Tezuka family were kept. And when Tezuka dies, he would be cremated and his ashes too will be placed side by side with his family.

The other three men bowed their respects, then withdrew several feet away to give him some privacy. Asakura, after a moment of consideration, left them and went to the caretaker office.

Atobe and Sanada did not look at each other. Sanada leaned against a nearby tree and took out his phone to call in his absence. Atobe paced the narrow lane between tightly packed grave plots restlessly.

In a few minutes, Asakura returned with a bucket of water and a basket. He left them beside Tezuka and silently withdrew. Tezuka nodded his thanks.

Tezuka took a ladle out of the basket to wash the stone marker and the area around the grave. Then, place the flowers, white chrysanthemums, and a container filled with rice that Asakura had thoughtfully provided on the stone shelf. Then, he took out incense sticks and lit them. He spent several more minutes in silent contemplation. Finally, he stuck the incense into the rice. When the incense burned down to stubs, he cleared everything up, except the flowers. Through it all, his posture was rigid and his movements slow, deliberate with care. Only the execution of the ritual allowed him to hold himself together.

Asakura took the items he had packed back into the basket, murmuring that he would take care of them. Tezuka gave him another deep bow and politely thanked him. Then, Asakura left the three of them to return the items to the caretaker.

"Tezuka." It was the first word Atobe addressed to Tezuka directly.

"Atobe."

"Are you going to stay around now?"

Tezuka shook his head. "I promised I would let him live." Then he turned to Sanada. "Sanada-san. You have been taking care of Shiroi?"

Sanada blinked. "Aa," he said awkwardly.

"I am sorry for the trouble he had caused you." He bowed formally. "And thank you very much for your kindness."

"Uh ... it's no trouble at all," responded Sanada, thrown off by Tezuka's formality.

"Hey!" Atobe interrupted. "Don't you remember him, Tezuka? You played him in the National Finals!"

Tezuka tilted his head, like he was rummaging around in his memory. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you are talking about."

"Tennis! Junior High Tennis tournaments."

Tezuka shook his head. "I have to go now. Thank you for today."

"What? Wait!"

But it was too late. When he straightened up again from the bow, Shiroi blinked in disorientation at them. "Keigo-sama! Sanada-san?" He looked around him, bewildered by the sudden change of location. "He got away!" Shiroi cried in panic.

"It's all right, Shiroi," said Atobe quickly.

"Shiroi sorry. He ... Did he do anything bad? Shiroi sorry."

"It's fine," said Sanada gruffly.

"Come, Shiroi," said Atobe. "Let's tend your wounds."

Shiroi held up his torn wrists mournfully. "He always do this. It takes weeks to heal completely. Then Master would get angry at Shiroi. Shiroi can't be seen like this. Shiroi sorry. Shiroi shouldn't be seen like this." He tried to hide his hands behind his back.

"It's not your fault." Atobe took Shiroi's hands in his, to show him that it was all right with Atobe. "Come."

"Keigo-sama..." Shiroi smiled happily and allowed himself to be comforted in Atobe's gentle embrace.

* * *

**Notes:**  
* Japanese family graves consist of a stone monument with flat spaces for offerings and ritual observations.  
* Sometimes, the name of the couple are engraved on the headstone at the same time, at the death of either the husband or wife. The still living spouse's name is painted in red to indicate he/she is still alive. After death and burial, the red paint is removed.  
* Name is also written on a sotoba, a separate wooden board on a stand behind or next to the grave.  
* Ukiyo-e is traditional Japanese woodblock prints.  
* Shunga erotic ukiyo-e prints.

* * *

**Response to Reviewers:**  
Since I've revealed a major part of Shiroi's history, I feel obligated to comment on idea of sex and nudity in Feudal and Modern Japan. In general, there is no concept of carnal sin in religion, ie. sex=sin, homosexuality=sin. In ukiyo-e, nudity is not considered erotic. Communal bathing is still commonly practised as recreational activity. While mixed-sex baths are rare now, it was pretty common in the 1600s. These boys were pretty exposed to communal bathing (see anime Karuizawa episodes, Shin PoT Ch 48). They've seen each other naked in a sento/onsen. Boys (10 and below) can even accompany their mothers in the Ladies' side. Hence, when it comes to seduction and eroticism, especially where Shiroi seduced Atobe & Fuji, it's about the 'erotic' body parts being partially hidden and strategically exposed. (Of course, those scenes are the reversal of the usual Atobe or Fuji courting/seducing Tezuka plot device.)

**geecee** : Thank you! I am happy someone agree on the rating. I was afraid I might falsely escalated this to M-rating from my prudishness. But some details, esp suicide detail in MBW, are not appropriate for teens.

LOL. The image of Sanada and Asakura commiserating over tea and cakes cracks me up!

Dolls' training believable? Thanks! That means a lot. I based it on several models and apply liberal artistic license. The training is inspired by geisha training, Immortalgeisha forum, Memoirs of a Geisha, J Carey's Kushiel series, Suzuki Ami's Kimi mo Shiranai Jaren no Hate ni (At the End of an Illicit Love You Don't Know Either), Psychology – Abnormal Psychology, Learning Theory, Shaping and Aversion Therapy, thought reform, some random stuff I picked up from gay forum/studies. Major nasties came from child/sexual abuse research – Grooming, Foot in the door technique, Normalisation. Horrible to read but I think, important to know; esp when you're a parent/guardian or someone in potentially exploitive situation; to protect your child and yourself.

I'm glad the adult stuff came out OK. Yeah, was afraid it sounds crude and a turn off.

*cough* This is purely fantasy, since I have no idea either. I just imagined he is something like an Oiran/Tayuu and has one or two customers a week, but he still plays with the other Dolls (esp seme ones) on free days.

**kamu**: Oh dear! There's even more poor Sanada in this chapter.

**Aan**: I think I used my entire vocabulary worth of euphemisms for the xxx words. Finding data / story-details for that chapter made me turn green in some instances too. And that's even with anti-XXX filtering and anti-popups on my browser and only clicking reputable links. The really nasty one, is actually 'child grooming', which you can check on wikipedia. But I decided to hint it rather than explicitly describe it. Hence the story took a 2nd-hand Atobe analysis instead of Shiroi's 1st-hand account, which I simply can't put into writting. But much of Shiroi's peculiar behaviour is a result of 'normalising' what would have been considered socially/culturally abnormal behaviour.


	16. Chapter 16

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 16**

On the way back to Sanada's home, they switched seats. Atobe drove with Sanada in the front passenger seat. Asakura took the back seat where he could tend to Shiroi's hands.

"What happened, Shiroi?" He rolled the bandages firmly around Shiroi's wrist.

Shiroi looked embarrassed. "Shiroi didn't put the lock tight enough."

"Eh?"

"So, you really did handcuff yourself to the window," said Sanada in disbelief.

"Handcuff?" exclaimed Asakura.

"Yes, Sanada-san. But he escaped anyway."

Sanada refrained from correcting Shiroi about letting Tezuka go.

"Why?" asked Atobe.

"Because Shiroi have to. Because he does bad things when he comes out. Like this."

"If you haven't used the handcuff, Tez- " Shiroi flinched. Sanada bit off what he was going to say.

"The last time he came out and he wasn't tied up, he slashed our arms and made us bleed." He drew a long line from inner wrist to elbow to show Asakura. "It really hurt. But we had to be very quiet and not let the blood spill from the sink, so no one will know. No one will know till it's too late. Master was so angry. And Shiroi had to go to hospital to replace the blood. And again for the doctor to remove the scars. And Shiroi can't be seen for months."

Atobe's knuckles on the steering wheel was white. Asakura and Sanada exchanged glances.

"You mean he tried to commit suicide?" asked Asakura.

Shiroi frowned. "No, no, he wouldn't. He promised he won't kill us. But he said we have to bleed and bleed until so much had come out. Until it was almost too late. Then they have to send us to the hospital for blood. Then Shiroi had to stay asleep. But ... but ... it was really hard for him. It was painful and scary and dizzy. It was so hard to think. He didn't really know how much. He was guessing, hoping it's not too little and it's not too much we would die before we could reach the hospital."

"He was trying to escape?"

Shiroi nodded. "But he overestimated himself. He hurt and hurt and he was so tired. Shiroi didn't dare to come out. So another one came out in the hospital."

"_Another one?" _mouthed Asakura.

Sanada shrugged a shoulder in return.

"Then a boy came inside and said '_Tezuka-sempai, is that you?_'. And then we said '_Yes, Suzuka-kun'. _Then he said, '_I am visiting my cousin. I'm just getting some juice for him. I'll come by later'. _Then Shiroi knew it wasn't _him_. But he won't wake up. So Shiroi had to hide the other one. Had to make him sleep, make him forget. Shiroi had to come out. No one must see the other one. No one must know of the _Secret. _But the men outside, they heard. And Suzuka-san never came back. And then _he_ was angry Shiroi let the other one out. Master was angry Shiroi let _him _out. Then nurse said Suzuka-san is dead."

Shiroi covered his mouth in horror. "Shiroi not supposed to say that. Shiroi cannot tell. Shiroi don't know anything. Shiroi didn't hear them talk to Suzuka-san."

"Shiroi, it's okay." Asakura tried to reassure him.

Shiroi shook his head violently. "Shiroi is not supposed to tell! Not tell! Not tell!"

"Shiroi!" Atobe's voice cracked like a whip. Sharp and commanding.

Shiroi was momentarily struck dumb. Then softly, he said, "Shiroi sorry, Keigo-sama."

Atobe sighed. Looked like he had to push ahead of schedule, earlier than he wanted. "You don't obey the Master any more. He cannot dictate what you can or cannot tell me. Whatever he tells you to do is no longer valid. Every rule and command he ever told you is now nullified. This is ore-sama's rule. Understand?"

"Yes, Keigo-sama."

"And it's okay to say Tezuka's name. You won't be punished. Tezuka is allowed to do what he wants. I don't want you to fight with him."

Shiroi hunched his shoulder fearfully. He could not disobey direct order from Keigo-sama. But his history with Tezuka was contradictory and at cross purposes. He was afraid of Tezuka's frightening and unpredictable behaviour. At the same time, he knew that Tezuka protected him and took care of the bad things Shiroi did not want to do or know about. But he didn't want Tezuka to hurt Keigo-sama or Asakura-san or Sanada-san. He really liked Keigo-sama and Keigo-sama's friends.

"Shiroi?" said Atobe impatiently. He still had his eyes on the road, so he could not see Shiroi's reactions.

Asakura patted Shiroi's hand. "It's okay, Shiroi. Don't worry. Master Keigo knows what he is doing. Trust him."

Shiroi nodded. "Yes, Asakura-san. Yes, Keigo-sama. Sorry, Keigo-sama," he said in a small voice.

"Now, tell us how you knew Tezuka was coming out today," asked Asakura.

"He came out the same day every year. The Master's men tied Shiroi up and lock the door before he comes out. Then they release Shiroi when he went away again. They didn't want him to damage Shiroi or hurt other people."

"It's all right, Shiroi. We're not the same as the Master. We don't mind if Tezuka comes out. There's no need to lock Tezuka away. Is there, Master Keigo?" Asakura put a marked emphasis on the last sentence.

"No, Asakura-san don't understand. He escaped once and he broke one of the men. What if he broke Keigo-sama?"

"I will protect Master Keigo," said Asakura simply. "I won't let Tezuka hurt anyone."

"Yes, yes," said Atobe, still not taking his eyes off the road as he overtook a car. "What Asakura said."

"Shiroi sorry. Shiroi don't understand anything. He hates Shiroi. Because Shiroi is useless. Shiroi can't do anything properly. Shiroi let the Secret out. Shiroi let the boy die. Shiroi didn't tell. He wanted Shiroi to tell. But Shiroi couldn't tell. Master said Shiroi can't tell. Shiroi is useless. Useless. Useless."

"Shh. Don't say that." Asakura gave Shiroi a bottle of water. In a few minutes, Shiroi slumped against the seat, deeply asleep.

"You drugged him!" accused Sanada.

"It's just sleeping pill. We need to talk. About this Tezuka person. Besides, you want Shiroi to continue that depressing self-recriminations?"

Sanada sighed. He can't argue with that. But he didn't think he could be as coldly pragmatic as Asakura. "Why today, of all days? Is it a Spring thing?"

"It's the day his family died," said Asakura. "April 2nd."

"Oh," said Sanada. "So, Tezuka just come out to visit the grave on the anniversary of their deaths."

"Is that all?" asked Atobe.

"I think so. He said he wanted to go to Tokyo. Today. Quite insistent that it's today."

"Why didn't he stay?" asked Asakura. Tezuka and Shiroi had swapped consciousness by the time Asakura came back.

"He said ..." Sanada paused for a moment.

"He said he promised Shiroi," said Atobe. He did not say what was it Tezuka promised Shiroi. He wasn't quite sure, but his Insight kept flashing stark black and white images when he thought of the two of them. White for Shiroi, black for Tezuka. Sunlight, openness, simple joys free of every social expectation and historical baggage. Dark burnt out husk in constant pain bearing the burden of knowing and understanding too much. His Insight was mostly intuition till his reason and logic caught up. "Now, we can conclude that there are at least three personalities in Tezuka."

"Three?"

"Shiroi, Tezuka, and the other one that was not Shiroi or Tezuka."

"I wonder who that is," said Sanada.

"Don't look at me." Atobe grunted and swerved impatiently as he overtook the car ahead. The car swayed. Asakura held on to Shiroi before he banged himself against the door.

"Seven perfectly good cars and one perfectly capable chauffeur in my garage." Atobe muttered under his breath. "But no... I have to sit in this filthy rented car with no suspensions. Touch germ-infested steering wheel," he grumbled. "Dealing with slow coach motorists who don't know how to drive properly. Move it, you stupid tortoise! I should own the damned road. I'm going to buy this damned road and make a better one."

Sanada surreptitiously slipped his hand on the hand brake. Just in case Atobe's driving went from grumpy impatience to insanely suicidal.

"Don't worry, Sanada-san," whispered Asakura. "It's good character building for Master Keigo. Umm ... it's also why we don't let him drive if we can help it."

Sanada wondered which part of that was supposed to be reassuring. He held the brake handle in death grip.

A few more minutes of silence reigned while they watched Atobe weaved his way around traffic. Then Asakura suddenly remembered something. "Ah! I managed to get some information from the caretaker's office." He unfolded a piece of paper from his pocket.

"The plot was bought about 40 years ago by Tezuka Kunikazu upon the death of his wife, Tezuka Miharu. The yearly maintenance fee was paid by Tezuka Kunikazu until his death. The next two years were paid by his grandson, Tezuka Kunimitsu. The fee is now in arrears for 6 years."

"The caretaker knew Tezuka-san quite well. So, he was extending the payment period indefinitely for the time being. It seems Tezuka-san visited every two months since his wife passed away. Occasionally, his grandson would accompany him." Asakura cleared his throat. "I took the liberty of paying off the arrears and the next 5 years maintenance fee, just in case."

Atobe nodded wordlessly. He knew Asakura would simply put that under Atobe's expense account with his consent. If Atobe had challenged it, he would simply pay it out of his own pocket. But that was just because Asakura liked Shiroi that much more than most people Atobe associated with. Asakura may not approve of Shiroi, but he liked Shiroi well enough. Atobe also had a pretty good idea Asakura liked and approved of Sanada. Somehow, that irked him more than it should.

In the meantime, Asakura went on with his findings. "Tezuka Kunimitsu's visits were more sporadic. Three times in November XXXX. Once in January, once on April 2nd."

"What about O-bon, 15 July?" asked Sanada.

Asakura shook his head. "Last visit in April. I know what you mean. It's strange Tezuka-kun did not visit on O-bon."

"What's so special about that?" groused Atobe. His family were not particular about observing traditional Japanese festivals. Until he transferred to Hyoutei, he did not even know about Setsubun, Hanami, White Day, Tanabata, and a dozen more of such locally quaint events.

"It's a day of remembrance. The day for honouring the spirits of the Dead."

"Maybe he was busy."

"No, Tezuka is not the kind of person who would be too busy for O-bon," said Sanada.

"Maybe, it wasn't that he missed O-bon. But that he was missing on O-bon," said Asakura.

When they reached Sanada's home, Asakura busied himself putting Shiroi to bed. Sanada finally had some privacy with Atobe.

"Atobe, why were you acting so strange around Tezuka?" he opened without preamble.

"Am not."

"You hardly said two words to him. Normally, you can't shut up long enough."

"Ore-sama am capable of holding ore-sama's own counsel at appropriate moments. But I supposed such subtle distinction is beyond you." Atobe soaped his hands the second time, scrubbing vigorously.

"Give, Atobe. I don't believe any of your excuses."

"Make your own conclusions, Mr. Policeman. You can't expect ore-sama to feed you all the answers."

"Fine. You feel guilty for taking advantage of Shiroi. You're embarrassed when you met Tezuka, knowing what you did with Shiroi."

"Thank you for your brilliant deductions. Now tell me why Tezuka don't remember you."

That stopped Sanada short. "Maybe he really lost his memory. Except your oversized ego is tso loud, it was impossible to forget completely."

"Such childish conjectures. Obviously, intelligence is not your strong point." Naturally, Atobe would not admit that he needed time to adjust. Seeing Shiroi's body, but not Shiroi in the way he moved and talked. Seeing Tezuka but not Tezuka in Shiroi's body and Shiroi's clothes. Having too much to say and not knowing where to begin. It was a shock, no matter how much and how long he had prepared himself for it.

Seeing Tezuka, yet not Tezuka that he knew. Even after he had allowed for changes over the years. Even he and Sanada had changed and grown up. But Tezuka's behaviour was a strange distortion of too old and too young. Tezuka that remembered him, but not Sanada. Why? How much did Tezuka remember? Bits and pieces? A short specific event?

He tuned out Sanada's words to chase the tail of that thought. What was it that Yuushi rambled about, back when Yuushi was suddenly obsessed with his sister's Abnormal Psychology textbook and tried to diagnose every team member with every imaginable mental illness.

Somehow, he caught Shishido's interest and Shishido was only too eager to point out 'delusions of grandeur' at Atobe. Atobe pointed out that his case was 'verity of grandeur'. But Shishido can enjoy _his_delusions as much as he liked.

There was even an amnesia in-joke that dragged on for weeks. Gakuto and Shishido practically memorised the whole list. Claiming anterograde amnesia as excuses to cut short swing practices and study sessions. Then, claiming retrograde amnesia when they forgot something they had been told to do for a week.

Yuushi's favourite had been dissociative amnesia. Claiming ignorance with an innocent face every time he screwed up. Or lost a set to Atobe. Then dramatically declare it was too traumatic to remember when reminded. If he had not been as good a player as he was, Atobe would have hit his head with the damned book till he had real trauma to complain about.

Sakaki-sensei finally put a stop to all that nonsense when Jirou failed his music recital test. Gakuto and his big mouth told the coach the stress caused Jirou to have systemised amnesia, in which he forget everything musical. At which point, Sakaki-sensei gave Atobe a long unhappy look. Like it was Atobe's personal fault that the damned tennis regulars were out of control outside of tennis practice.

He ordered the entire third year music class to run 20 laps around the school perimeter because it was proven that running reduces stress. For once in Gakuto's life, he wasn't so keen on bragging about how big the entire Hyotei compound was. Only Atobe and the marathon team members had no problem completing the laps. Most of the students had collapsed by the fourth round, strewn all over the campus.

The next day make-up test, Jirou was awake and excitable enough to play the most brilliant Strauss anyone could ask for. Yuushi was in shock for a week when he found out Jirou had scored 3 points higher than he did.

Atobe sighed. Tezuka might have partial amnesia, leaving gaps in his memory. Which would explain why he remembered Atobe but not Sanada. But that did not explain everything.

He scrolled through the names in his phone, then picked a number.

"Atobe, do you know what time it is?" Yuushi's husky drawl greeted him.

"Don't care. Can you remember that basket case soap opera drama you used to watch? The one where there was this man and he had an evil twin sister that wasn't a twin, but himself."

There was a pregnant pause. "Atobe, are talking about the Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?"

"No. I would have remembered a classic. I think there were aliens and an entire staff that slept with their step-sister accidentally."

"You are calling me at 7am about trashy daytime TV?" said Yuushi incredulously.

"Just answer the question."

"What was the question again?"

"What was that name of that mental illness?"

"Split personality in layman terms. Commonly known as Multiple Personality Disorder. The proper medical term is Dissociative Identity Disorder. DID."

"Right."

"Can I go back to sleep now?"

Atobe disconnected in response.

"Sanada!" Atobe announced in his slightly manic _'I know what I'm doing_' voice. "Tezuka has Dissociative Identity Disorder. And he has Dissociative Amnesia! He needs help!"

Sanada had to bite his tongue really hard to refrain from saying, "_Atobe, __**you**__ need help!_"

In a blink, Atobe had pulled out a laptop and started subscribing into medical psychology digital libraries and journals. He had several files downloaded and opened, speed reading through various literature and websites.

Without taking his eyes off the screen, he gave orders.

"Sanada, order lunch delivery! Call _The King's Cafe. _I want Yorkshire pudding and roast beef. And none of that low fat crap! Also a tub of Dark Swiss Chocolate gelato. I need sugar for this kind of work."

"_I'll take care of that, Sanada-san."_

"Asakura, tell me when Shiroi is awake!"

"_Yes, Master Keigo."_

"Sanada, pillow! Your chair is too hard."

"_Here you go, Master Keigo."_

"Asakura, coffee!"

"_Your usual, Master Keigo."_Asakura poured a cup from a thermos Michael shoved into his hands before he ran out of the house at 5:30 am following Sanada's call to Atobe.

"Sanada, I need another monitor. And set up the printer for me."

"Sanada, make yourself useful."

Sanada's head whirled as he watched Asakura ran around organising every detail for Atobe. Finally, he had had enough of Atobe. He holed himself up beside the sleeping Shiroi, in the only room that remained untouched by Atobe's demands. With the doors closed, it was quiet in there. Atobe's mutterings, clickings and typing were filtered and muted by an inch of solid wooden door.

He changed Shiroi's bandages. Then, slowly, gently, he swept back Shiroi's fringe to watch Shiroi's sleeping face. Tezuka never looked this young before. The elegant line of his eyebrows smooth of worries. The dark lashes cast a faint shadow on his cheek. His wide forehead free of deep thought and responsibility.

Now that he thought about it, he must have been one of the few who knew about the accident from the beginning. The funeral was in the middle of school week, so only his grandfather and father attended. Tezuka family died. It was just words. Until he stood before their grave, the reality had not registered. Seeing Tezuka kneeling there, with the smell of incense in the cold air. Trying not cry. It was too painfully real.

Imagining, instead of _Tezuka _inscribed in stone, it was _Sanada_. A smile, a nod of approval, a warm hand, a teasing voice. All reduced to two handfuls of dust in a jar. Would he almost kill himself to be able to kneel before them in shame? To live with the guilt of knowing his carelessness had killed an innocent boy. His ambition had killed the people he loved most.

No amount of atonement could absolve him. Tezuka did not ask for forgiveness. Not when he could not begin to forgive himself.

Someone needed to say it.

"It is not your fault," he said to the sleeping Tezuka. Because it needed to be said.

* * *

**Notes:**  
**Obon** or **Bon** is Japanese Buddhist custom to honour the spirits of one's ancestors. They visit and clean their ancestors' graves, and bring offerings. It has been celebrated in Japan for more than 500 years. Originally falls on Month 7 Day 15 of Lunar calendar. Tokyo generally celebrates it on 15 July after conversion to Gregorian calendar.

Anterograde Amnesia - The inability to form new long term memory.

Retrograde Amnesia - The inability to retrieve or recall stored memory.

Dissociative Amnesia – aka psychogenic amnesia. Blocks out certain information associated with overwhelming stressful or traumatic event. Gaps in memory for long periods of time or of memories involving the traumatic event.

Systemised Amnesia – Forget only certain category of information, while other memories remained intact.

**Responses to Reviewers:**  
Last weekend and this week has been frustrating. No login, no traffic report, cannot review, cannot update/post. Aren't you glad I updated earlier than usual before the FF problems started? XD  
I'm so happy to hear last chapter has provoked so many questions and reactions. Some I had not expected, some I had hoped to bring out. In this chapter, Shiroi reveals a little more.

**Aan**: Three-in-one reviews! I must have done something right. :D Glad to hear you did so well in your presentation. Hope this chapter answers some of your questions. For the rest, it will be revealed in time. Yeah, Atobe is having too much fun. But he will have to answer for it in the next chapter. Shiroi had a very contradictory view of Tezuka. Part of it from his personal interaction with Tezuka and part of it from the Master's influence. So yeah, Tezuka is a scary villain in Shiroi's world. Tezuka, on the other hand, has his own issues with Shiroi too.

**Kamu**: I'm happy to read your reasoning for Shiroi. It's very close.


	17. Chapter 17

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 17**

Atobe leaned back against the back rest and stretched his hands up. He had spent hours hunched over the keyboard and his back was complaining of the abuse.

"It's time to take a break, Master Keigo." Asakura placed a steaming cup next to him.

Not coffee this time but hot chocolate. Probably on Michael's instruction. It had Michael's mark all over it. Michael did not approve of coffee past midnight. It was always milk or chocolate, and the occasional wine when he was old enough to drink. He had even called Asakura back to Tokyo to arrange his dinner and fresh changes of clothes earlier.

Michael had been training Asakura to be good enough to serve his Keigo-bocchama. He had high hopes Asakura would take over the management of Atobe's household when he retired. So far, Atobe thought Asakura was a lost cause. He was happy to tag along and head a small team of five security people that formed Atobe's personal detail. He had been actively avoiding responsibilities that require managing several hundred people and dealing with day to day aspects of accounting and housekeeping. He even declined when Atobe offered to promote him to head all security personnel in all Atobe properties and offices in Japan. He cited preferring to be out and about with Atobe than stuck in an office.

Atobe looked around him, suddenly noticing the dark sky. "Ahn? Where's Sanada?"

"He went to sleep. It's 3am, Master Keigo."

"Oh. Hmph! I have half a mind to wake him up right now."

Asakura gave him a disapproving look. "Why do you keep on antagonising Sanada-san?"

"I don't."

"You do. The last two months, you've played childish pranks and insulted him more than usual. I am surprised how patiently he had tolerated you. If you were five years old, you would be that child who threw tantrums just to get attention. Are you jealous of Sanada's attention to Shiroi?"

"What? No! Don't be silly. It was a tactic of distractions."

"Pray tell why Atobe Keigo needs such low tactics?"

Atobe sighed. "If Sanada was too busy being angry with me, he wouldn't have time to worry about Tezuka. Then he won't do something irreparably stupid."

"Ah! And he wouldn't notice you have had zero progress with Shiroi-Tezuka's situation."

Atobe hissed. That Asakura was too preceptive. "Do you think I'm wrong? Not telling Shiroi what to do?"

"He needs clear instructions from you."

"He doesn't."

"You have no problems ordering everyone else around you. Why not Shiroi?"

Atobe straightened up and closed the laptop. Then he turned his full attention to Asakura.. "Everyone else don't have a problem disagreeing with me if I tell them something stupid. Would you shoot yourself just because I told you to?"

"That is important?"

"It is very important. I wouldn't bother hiring you if you are going to be just another yes-man."

"Shiroi ..."

"Shiroi does not have a will. If I told him to jump off a bridge, he would. That is just wrong."

"He is wilful enough to seduce you into his bed whenever he wants."

"Shut up! I've all ready taken care of that problem. And I've mostly stopped. Anyway, that is irrelevant. Shiroi is acting the way he thinks he should act. Or the way he thinks I want him to act. He is like a Noh actor. Whatever role you give him, he will wear the mask and act according to script."

"You mean the Shiroi we've met till now was nothing more than an act?"

"No. Yes. It's complicated. It's not an act, as in fake or trickery. He is sincere in his actions and words." Atobe rubbed his tired eyes, trying to reorder his thoughts. "Imagine you have one litre of water. You pour it into a bowl, it takes the shape of the bowl. You pour it into a jar, it takes the shape of a jar. You pour it on the floor, it disintegrates and becomes a puddle. Whatever shape it takes, it is still water. It never pretends to be anything but water. Shiroi is like that.

"Up to now, he is still operating under the last order given to him. To seduce me. And as his new master, to serve and obey me in any way he can. In Shiroi's limited experience, both translates to servitude and sensual pleasures. So far, these two commands do not contradict each other. And I've allowed him to continue the role that he thought he was expected to perform.

"Right now, he is the water inside the bowl. It gives him shape and purpose. I had hoped he would eventually step out of the bowl by himself. I've been trying to get him to step out of the bowl and make his own shape. At least, that would be what Tezuka would have wanted for himself.

"But now ... I have simply changed the shape of his container. It doesn't solve anything beyond the surface problem. Only what is visible and immediate."

Asakura sighed again. "Perhaps you should just cut him off completely. It would force him to ..."

"Do you know what happens to water when you shatter the container? It spills all over and disintegrates into a huge mess. I don't know what will happen if I do that. Shiroi could go completely crazy or suicidal. Or he could just crawl into the servitude of the next man who picks him up. Can you live with that? I can't.

"This is the vilest, lowest thing you could do to a person. Turn a perfectly good and normal person into someone who believed he is completely servile and helpless. How do you expect me to walk away from this? Even ... even if he isn't Tezuka ... I can't leave him like this."

"You are taking this too personally."

"It _is _personal."

_Keigo was 12 years old. He found a small puppy under the hedge when he was out riding. He had brought it home, hidden under his riding jacket. He hid it behind the couch in the old library. It was full of old classics - leather-bound collections of works in Chinese, Japanese, Persian, Mesopotamian, Latin, Greek, German, Arabic, Italian, French and Scandinavian languages. Nobody came there except him and Papous. Not when there was a bigger and more impressive English library upstairs._

_He had just finished feeding the puppy a saucer of cream he saved from afternoon tea when the door opened suddenly._

'The Japanese municipal requires a show of commitment before they will award such a large contract to Atobe Corp. A show of good faith,' said a voice he did not recognise.

'What kind of commitment?' asked his father.

'First, residential status. You have to convince them that your residence is in Tokyo Prefecture.'

'I can't move my entire operations to Tokyo.'

'Then your family will have to ...'

'I can move Keigo to Tokyo. Live and study there for the requisite three years till project completion. Is that good enough?'

'Yes, it will do.'

He never told anyone what he heard that day. Or what his father told him afterwards.

_'Keigo, the old governor likes Brahms. Impress him with your piano. Keigo, you have done well to have the Kabaji boy in your control. Make sure you impress on his parents how charming you are. Ensure they know you are his best friend and protector. He is the diplomat's only son. And the diplomat has the governor's ear. You have the best influence on the man right now. When you see him in the room, make sure he heard you mention that ...'_

Like a puppet, he had danced to his father's strings. Kabaji had innocently went along, dancing to Keigo's strings. He hated himself for that. He didn't understand he had a choice, till he stood across the net from Tezuka Kunimitsu. And Tezuka showed him, there was always another way.

_'Your father is going to just let you go to Germany? On your own?'_

_'Aa.'_

_'He signed the consent form?'_

_'Yes. He is quite enthusiastic.'_

_'I see. I won't be seeing you for a while then.'_

_'I might come back during Christmas break.'_

_'I won't be here. Father tore up my Hyoutei forms. I'm going back to England. It is not negotiable,' he said harshly._

_'You don't want to?'_

_'Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know. Is it strange? Now that I am here, I don't want to leave. I used to hate it here.'_

_'No, it is not strange at all. I'm not sure I want to leave. But I have chosen and now I am committed to this path.'_

_'I won't play you again. In a tournament.'_

_'You can still enter ATP in UK.'_

_'I can't. I can play tennis, but ... this is the end of the road. I can represent the varsity, and play as much as I want. As long as I don't sully the Atobe name by trying to turn it into a career. As long as I fulfil all the other requirements first.' His words bitter in his mouth._

_'Requirements?'_

_'Perfect academic records. Top leadership positions. Be on first name basis with royalties and future ministers and corporate presidents.'_

_'Aa. It is important to your future.'_

_'Yes, very important. To someone's future, at least. I'll come back. Watch me. When I come of age. When I don't have to depend on his signature to decide my life. Just because he contributed 50% of my genes. I'll show him! I don't need him! I can make it on my own.'_

_'Atobe! He is your father.'_

_'Unfortunately.'_

_'You don't mean that.'_

_'Sometimes I do. Sometimes, I wish my mother had an affair ...' He stopped himself, probably because Tezuka looked shocked and sad at the same time. 'I had a paternity test when I was three. My breeding is impeccable. There is a vault somewhere with my hair samples and little hand and foot prints too. Maybe they were afraid they need to identify me by small chopped up pieces.'_

He did not know why he said that. Maybe it was because he realised Tezuka never considered the possibility that anyone could have extra-marital affairs. Or that children got kidnapped for ransom or control of large inheritance really happened outside of fiction.

He did not have the luxury of innocence. He always knew which maid was sleeping with which visiting relative or business associate. Or which socialites were fooling around behind their spouses back. Which senior management was sleeping with his or her secretary. The plastic smile and fantasy perfect life could not hide their ugly natures from his insight.

_'He is still your father.'_

_'I know. I don't know if I ever ...'_

_'You do love him. That's why it hurts so much.'_

_He really wanted to hit Tezuka then. Because it was the truth and he hated it. Instead, he leaned against Tezuka's back. And Tezuka leaned back against him. They supported each other's weight comfortably, using the other as back rest. Then a large fish jerked Tezuka forward and both over balanced. They thrashed around trying to regain their balance and nearly toppled the boat. Until Tezuka crouched down and lay still on the bottom._

_And he pulled Atobe down next to him. They held on to each other while they waited for the boat to stop rocking crazily._  
_  
_"It is personal," he said to Asakura. "I have to make Shiroi do it himself. This is not enough."

"What is not enough?"

"Shiroi. He has to tell me to stop torturing Sanada."

Asakura sighed. Even Atobe Keigo had his version of pig-headedness. "You are taking this too far."

"No. I won't make the same mistake again."

"What mistake? With whom?"

"Doesn't matter. You don't know him ..."

Atobe picked up the warm mug and sipped the rich creamy chocolate. He appreciated the touch of nutmeg in the beverage. No doubt Michael had a hand in it. Asakura's idea of hot chocolate was a paper sachet of muddy brown powder and hot water.

"I thought I was protecting him," he said contemplatively.

Nutmeg always reminded him of his first meeting with Kabaji in the green house, heady with the smell of nutmeg flowers blooming above them. He was eight. Kabaji was seven. And he was taller than Kabaji back then.

"It worked for both of us. He used to get bullied so badly. Just because he won't fight back and he was so simple minded, he believed everything that anyone told him. He depended on me to make decisions. Tell right from wrong. I got us into all kinds of mischief and out again. When people see him around me, me ordering him around ... they left him alone. They knew if they messed with him, they were messing with me.

"But when I left ... I left him without any means to take care of himself. I hated it. But it was probably for the best. If I was there, he would never have to learn to fend for himself. He would never know, if the others were kind to him because they liked him or because of me. He would never learn to think for himself what is right and wrong. Or make any friends on his own."

Asakura patted him on the shoulder. "It's late. Would you like to go home or sleep here? I asked Sanada-san for extra beddings before he went to sleep. I can set up a bed for you in a minute."

"If you must," said Atobe tiredly.

Asakura made a bed for him on the couch and tucked him in. Atobe was asleep within seconds.

The next morning, Asakura was woken up by Sanada cursing as he tripped over Atobe's mess of books and wires. Asakura leapt up and apologised, stacking the books back up.

"Master Keigo went to sleep after 3. Let him sleep a little longer. I'll clear everything up and send him home later."

"It's fine," said Sanada. "What was he doing all night?"

"He was speed-learning."

"Hm?"

"It meant he was teaching himself everything he needed to know about something. Do you know what Master Keigo does in Atobe company?"

"No. I thought he just order everyone around according to his whim."

"That is just his natural personality. His real responsibility is to make investment decisions. Business deals up to 8 digits in value. It could make or break a company. More money that I'll ever see in my life. And he dealt with that kind of stakes every day. All high tech industries and very highly specialised businesses need expert knowledge to assess properly. Master Keigo is unspecialised. He has no knowledge in whatever fields that he might be called into to make decisions. His true value to the company was his ability to speed-learn enough to make an objective and competent decision. This is why he is youngest Vice-President in the company history. His role was to _'cut through the smoke, dig out the bullshit_ _and stab right through the heart' _as he puts it."

"So he was speed-learning whatever he needed about Tezuka?"

"Yes. It's actually a lot of hard work, though he made it look so simple and easy."

"That's Atobe, all right," said Sanada grudgingly. He checked his watch. 7 a.m. "I have to get to work. There's extra towels in the cupboard there. And ... we're about the same size, so help yourself to what you need. Pants, shirt in the closet. Shiroi knows where everything is."

"Thank you, Sanada-san."

In the office, Sanada ran some investigation of his own. When he came home, Atobe was still holding fort in his living room. He had bathed and changed. Shiroi, on the other hand, had gone out to buy groceries for dinner.

"Shiroi's story checks out." Sanada passed a paper folder to Atobe. "Shiroi was admitted into Kiyou Private Hospital for attempted suicide. Slashed both his forearms and bled himself to the point he needed blood transfusion. Not the way you see on TV. The proper way, long and deep, severing the major arteries. It could have killed him if he didn't have medical care immediately. During that time, Suzuka Masaya was found dead in the same hospital."

"Cause?"

"Accidental death. Fell down emergency staircase and broke his neck. No one saw how it happened. No one heard anything. No one knew why he was in the emergency stairwell."

"How did he know Tezuka?"

"Third-year student of Seishun Gakuen Junior High School. Student Council member in 1st and 2nd Year. Student Council vice-president in 3rd Year. Captain of Baseball Team."

"Tezuka's kohai then. According to the year, he should be the same age as Echizen."

Sanada nodded. "I'm requesting the case to be re-opened. I want to make them pay."

"It won't hold up in court, if you ever get that far." Asakura held up his hand to forestall Sanada. "I know you mean well. But unless you have a reliable witness, or undeniable proof, and you can identify the suspect, you have nothing. Shiroi did not personally witness the boy being harmed. It's hearsay and Shiroi's mental stability will come into question."

Sanada growled. "Who are these people? Atobe, you must know..."

"Master Keigo had never seen the Master before. The business transaction was carried out through proxy."

"We can trace him through the proxy."

"You will find that the proxy has never met his employer. He just takes orders and gets paid. The money is probably transferred through untraceable foreign accounts."

"Who are you?" said Sanada, glaring suspiciously at Asakura.

"I'm just a simple bodyguard, Sanada-san."

"You're very well-versed in criminal justice and organised crime for a simple bodyguard."

"Comes from watching too much TV," said Asakura lightly.

Somehow, Asakura did not strike Sanada as someone who watched TV dramas.

"Enough!" said Atobe. "Those things are irrelevant. We have a more immediate issue. We have to make Tezuka come out again. It's for his own good."

"He said he won't ..."

"It's necessary. He has Dissociative Identity Disorder. There's Shiroi, Tezuka and X."

"X?"

"The other one Shiroi said came out in the hospital."

"And you're suddenly an expert?"

"Of course. Unlike you lazy lout, ore-sama is capable of becoming expert in anything quickly and easily."

"..."

"Now, according to what we've seen, Shiroi is the main identity, or the host. It just means Shiroi is the one most aware and in control. Tezuka and X are alters or alternate identities. On the other hand, we both know Tezuka is the real identity. So, we have to get Tezuka out and make him the host."

"What about X?"

"I don't know. He is not important right now. If he shows up, we can ask him who he is."

* * *

**Note:**

**Host** identity is the main identity that is aware most of the time. Sometimes, there are two or more identities that share dominance and awareness of each other, called co-conscious. The host may or may not be aware of the other alters.

**Alters** or alter egos are distinct identity or personality states experienced by a DID.

Some DIDs have alters that have distinctly different blood pressure, reactions, memory (with amnesia or memory lapse or black outs), emotions, and even age.

DID often co-occurs (co-morbidity) with other emotional conditions, including post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), borderline personality disorder (BPD), depression, conversion disorder, etc.

**Dissociation** - In psychology and psychiatry, it is defined as a perceived detachment of the mind from the emotional state or even from the body. Dissociation is disruption of the normal integrative processes of consciousness, perception, memory, and identity that define the Self.

* * *

**Response to Reviewers:**

Okay, I know this is rather late. Sorry. But word of warning. Don't read 'Mending Broken Wings' if you don't want spoilerish stuff. Ah! I better update Ch 01 too.

Oh dear … I should have expected it. I guess everyone will start guessing which alter was at which part of the not-Shiroi episodes. So, who do you think show(s) up in Chapter 1? Next chapter, Atobe will try to answer some of that.

Aan: I didn't realise I was being ambiguous about Sanada's feelings. But then, he is rather reserved and does not express himself readily, unless it is very significant or violates his personal believes. Thanks for telling me. Yeah, the last part for Sanada is a mirror of Ch 15 with Atobe. Somehow, I feel compelled to write them as equals, though Atobe really hogs the screen and action.  
About Shiroi's off days, I was thinking more along Apr 1 & 2. Because Tezuka emerges at the time of death (around 3 am) but learns to change the timing to catch the guards unawares. As to how Shiroi came about and the one in MBW - no comment.

Geecee : Not too late! I was happy to see Ch 15 review shortly after I posted Ch 16. Which should answer most of the questions. Shiroi being the 'dead boy' personality is brilliant! Wish I'd thought of that. But then, I haven't gotten to the part about DID having types of Alter that represent the source of trauma/stress when I was plotting the plot. Umm … I'm giving away next chapter's material, so I'll stop now. And no comment on which one is in MBW. You just have to tune in to find out. *evil laugh*. And yeah, this story is psychological not supernatural. That would be creepier. Writing Tezuka, especially in later chapters is emotionally exhausting enough. I don't want to be too creeped out till I can't sleep. :P

Jadeskye79 : Yay! You're back. The Hyoutei boys are fun cameos. Poor Atobe needed to be tortured too.

Kamu: Hehe! Sanada is sweet, when nobody is watching. Thanks for letting me know about the last part.


	18. Chapter 18

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 18**

After dinner, Atobe sat Shiroi down in the living room. Sanada and Asakura took seats on each side of him. Atobe sat opposite, completing the square arrangement.

"Now, Shiroi," began Atobe. "Tell me the earliest of your memory."

"Shiroi was with in the Master's mansion."

"How old were you?"

"Shiroi don't know."

"What month or year was it?"

Shiroi frowned. "July. Eight years ago."

"You were sixteen," said Sanada, counting backwards.

Asakura nodded. It was the July O-bon that both of them had noted Tezuka's absence.

"Sanada-san knows Shiroi's age?"

"Aa. I know your birthday too."

"Shiroi have a birthday?" asked Shiroi surprised. He did not even know his own age. Only he was probably 21 or 22, based on his appearance. He had tried to maintain his appearance to that of a late teen. In a few years, he would be too old to cater to the tastes of clients who liked young men. It was probably why the Master had been willing to sell Shiroi off. The Master had a new favourite, a newly acquired 16 year old that he was preparing to take over Shiroi's clientele.

"Yes. 7 October."

Shiroi counted on his fingers. Twenty-four. Older than he thought. He was the same age as Sanada-san and Keigo-sama. He was actually three days younger than Keigo-sama. Somehow, that made him feel even closer to Keigo-sama.

"What were you doing?" asked Atobe.

"Shiroi woke up. Shiroi met Yukihana-san and the Master. The Master gave Shiroi a name."

"Do you remember anything before that?"

Shiroi shook his head. "He ... Tez … Tezuka knew about the before. Shiroi don't know anything from before."

"What about when Shiroi went to Osaka? Was that Tezuka?"

Shiroi nodded. "Shiroi don't remember when Tezuka is awake. Unless ..."

"Unless?"

"Tezuka wants Shiroi to remember and made Shiroi watch."

"What about when Tezuka went to Tokyo cemetery yesterday?"

"Shiroi don't remember."

"Okay. What about Tezuka? Does he remember everything you remember?"

Shiroi shook his head. "He could, if he wanted to. But he doesn't like it. He stayed asleep unless something happens. Then he wakes up."

"How do we wake Tezuka?" asked Sanada.

"He wakes up once a year. On the same day, at the same time."

"He woke up when you went to Osaka. It wasn't the day he was supposed to wake up."

Shiroi's gaze flicked nervously between Sanada and Atobe. "He woke up because Shiroi is lost and scared."

"He woke up when you are highly stressed," concluded Atobe. "Ore-sama want to talk to Tezuka now. Call him out."

Shiroi shrank back. His head jerked anxiously, between a shake and a nod. He could not disobey Keigo-sama. But he could not make Tezuka appear. He did not know how. He didn't want Tezuka to come out. Tezuka could hurt Keigo-sama. Though, based on Asakura-san's explanation of yesterday's event, Tezuka had been polite and civil to Keigo-sama. But a lifetime of habit was hard to break.

"Well?" asked Atobe impatiently.

"Shiroi don't know how. He comes out when he wants to. Shiroi can't control him like that."

Atobe narrowed his eyes. Suddenly, he stood up and grabbed Shiroi's shoulders. "Tezuka! Get out here right now!"

Shiroi shrank back but did not protest.

Atobe shook Shiroi hard enough to make his teeth rattle. "Tezuka! I know you can hear me. Out now!"

Sanada stood up and pried Atobe off Shiroi. "Atobe! What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

Asakura inserted himself between both of them. Unfortunately, both Atobe and Sanada were not ready to disengage and all three went down in a tangle.

"Stop it!"

They looked at each other. When they realised none of them had spoken, they turned towards Shiroi.

"Tezuka." Atobe pushed Sanada's leg off him and gracefully leapt to his feet. "Ha! I knew it!" he said with a self-satisfied smirk.

"I expected better from you," said Tezuka by way of admonishment.

"You don't expect Ore-sama to be satisfied with just that, do you?"

"Don't bully Shiroi," said Tezuka testily. "What do you want?"

"Well, somebody is grumpy when he wakes up. I want answers, Tezuka. What happened to you?"

Tezuka looked around him. "Tell me, what happened to Shiroi?"

Atobe blinked. "What?"

"How did Shiroi end up with you?"

"You don't know?"

Tezuka shook his head.

Atobe sat down again. "This is going to take a while. Asakura, make coffee."

Asakura went to the kitchen while Sanada went back to his seat. Then, Atobe began telling Tezuka about meeting with Shiroi in a hotel in Tokyo.

"I remembered," said Tezuka softly. "I wanted to leave. I should have left ... I did not want you to get involved. I didn't want you to fall into his trap and get blackmailed for it."

"You should have more faith in me."

"You would have been trapped or killed by that thing if I had not taken action. It wasn't the first time that thing used Shiroi this way."

"I can take care of myself."

"You would have been dead if you opposed him." Tezuka sighed. There was no reasoning with Atobe's confidence. "I tried to leave, but Shiroi is too frightened of that thing to disobey him. So I forced him to tell you everything he knew."

"Ah. That explains it. I wondered why someone planning to blackmail me would send a pretty bait that would snitch on him on the first sign of trouble."

"He wouldn't let me leave the room."

"And that incident with Fuji? It was you, wasn't it?"

"Yes. When I realised he was with Fuji … I wanted to get him away from Fuji. I don't want anyone to get hurt. I don't want anyone to get involved with the Master."

"He wasn't with ... Wait! Was that why you ran off to Osaka?"

Tezuka sighed. "I don't know how he escaped or came to be alone. I just wanted to keep him safely away from recapture."

"And he was afraid of you enough to obey blindly. Look, I bought Shiroi off. He is free. The Master cannot touch you any more. Really, Tezuka, you have serious communication issues. Even with yourself. "

Tezuka clenched his jaw. He did not like to be associated with Shiroi, that wanton little whore. "You should just let Shiroi go. He can take care of himself."

"No. I'm not going to buy his freedom just to let him crawl into another bed. He is you."

Tezuka flinched. "He is not me!" he growled, low and menacing. "That useless little limpet. Spineless -"

Sanada placed his hand over Tezuka's arm by way of placation. "What is the first thing you remembered?"

"A phone call and tennis game with Atobe. What does it matter?"

"Was it before or after our final exams?"

"I don't know. It was a few weeks before Atobe told me he was going back to UK," Suddenly, Tezuka closed his eyes in grimace.

"What's wrong?" asked Sanada.

"I am tired. It is hard to stay out for long. Thank you for freeing Shi-"

"Wait! How ..."

But Tezuka crumpled into a ball of quivering Shiroi, whimpering in pain.

"Master Keigo," called Asakura.

Atobe went to Shiroi's side. "It's okay now, Shiroi. It's over. Everything will be all right."

After Shiroi had calmed down and sent to bed, the three of them reconvened.

"Atobe," Sanada opened without preamble. "Stop messing around with things you don't know."

"I got Tezuka to come out. I was right. You can force him out by stressing Shiroi."

"Are you crazy? Shiroi is messed up enough as he is. So is Tezuka. You want to keep scaring Shiroi to call Tezuka out? You have to know where to stop meddling with things you don't understand."

"I know what I am doing."

"I am not going to let you ..."

"You have no right to tell me ..."

"While you are in my house ..."

"Fine, I'll move Tezuka out ..."

"Absolutely not! I forbid ..."

Asakura watched both of them shouting to at each other. It was a rare sight, to see Atobe lose his temper. Even more so when there were very few people who would stand up to him. By the looks of things, they were about to move from verbal disagreement to a physical one. Which meant he better intervened. Atobe getting physical always spelled trouble for him. It was either painful or painfully embarrassing.

"Enough!" He stood between them, holding both at arms' length. "Sanada-san, what do you want?"

"I don't want him to mess-"

"No. What. Do. You. Want?"

"He needs help," said Sanada.

"And Master Keigo agrees with you, right?" Asakura looked sternly at Atobe.

Atobe nodded reluctantly.

"There! We all want the same thing."

"I was helping," interjected Atobe.

"You don't know what ..."

"Children! Don't make me spank you!"

Both froze and stared at him in shock.

"Now that I have your attention." Asakura pushed both down to the most convenient seats. "Both of you want to help The question is what and how. Sanada-san, what kind of help?"

"Professional help. Not Atobe."

"Master Keigo, is hiring professional help acceptable?"

"Fine. I get to pick which one."

"Sanada-san?"

"Fine. Tezuka stays here."

"Good then. Master Keigo will find a proper therapist. Shiroi or Tezuka-san will remain in Sanada-san's house. Then, we shall meet again next week."

* * *

**Notes:**

I took out the notes on DID for now. It's all about symptoms and characteristics of DID, the nature of host, alters and core personality. Theories on why and roles of host, core and alters. They might end up too spoilerish, not that you gals need any help in guessing what happens/happened.

**Responses to Reviewers:**

Thank you for the reviews. Sorry on the late update. Been a crazy week at work. Also, I had a glimpse of X in future, so I've been trying to capture the scene before I forget. I'm still figuring out how to show the relationship between the three without going into long expositions. May need expositions anyway to explain, but hopefully, it will be more compact if I build up the 'show' events first.

On more personal note, I've been using Google Notebook Firefox extension to write all my fanfics and original fics for past 3 years. Found that it worked best with my part time writing. Small post-it-sized box of blank is less intimidating/stressful that a screen full of blank. Except the recent upgrade to Firefox 4 killed my Gnotebook. Am not a happy Firefox user right now. *Points imaginary gun at Firefox dev. Hands off my statusbar, buster!*

With this chapter, it's obvious that the story is catching up to MBW. Half-way there, I hope. I did mention in MBW that the actual story is monstrously epic long and I wasn't sure I could write it properly. Both for the length, the emotional poignancy and the research/realism content. With a one-shot MBW, I was experimenting with style, words and symbolism. I'm not that good a writer to hold to that kind of multi-layer prose for 50-100k length.

Oh, the therapist in MBW is purposely nameless. I wrote several scenes with her as vague and unnamed too. But as I tried to write more this week, I found it too clumsy, so I'll give her a name. And background and some personality. Because His Ore-sama, Atobe Keigo, says so. Did I mention he is one demanding and unreasonable muse?

**Aan:** If you were Atobe, wouldn't find a way to achieve your objective AND reap buckets of entertainment at the same time? Hehehe! Atobe's macabre view of himself – well, you can blame that on serial killer and gangster movies. It's one way to hide evidence - dismembering the body and disposing it separately. Chinese and Japanese mafia are also commonly portrayed as cutting off ear/fingers/toes as threats or punishment. That's the research (or lack of it). The inspiration came from Lois Bujold MacMaster's Vorkosigan series, when a bad guy made a clone to replace an heir. Exact look-a-like, exact DNA match. But even clones and identical twins have different finger prints (skin ridges pattern). Atobe's description is my take on how such a scheme can be averted. I suppose there might be more Atobe flashback. His flashbacks were mostly spontaneous, i.e. unplanned and random.

Oh! I'm not going to update MBW. It's a one-shot. And now that I'm fleshing the story out, the plot might veered to the point MBW would be out of sync and no longer fit properly. Would be awesome if MBW fits perfectly. But I'm not that good. :P

**geecee**: What started all this? Hmm … a few things. Studying for Clinical Psych and Developmental Psych exams for one. Then (sorry!) reading crappy emo Tezuka fanfics. Tezuka is my favourite character for a simple reason. He is very emotionally stable and mature, with healthy self-esteem without external hangups. He doesn't need others to look bad to feel good about himself, nor is he jealous or clingy or insecure of other's success/skills. In fact, Tezuka's source of esteem is internally focused. It doesn't matter what other people think of him. Now, to unbalance him and break his sense of self, he needs a lot of push. Multiple and continuous stress sources. Big ones, medium recurring ones, small constantly present ones. Acute and chronic stress or trauma. Add that to Tezuka's natural reserve and detachment, … well, I figured DID is possible, especially as a coping strategy. Anyway, that's how I write. It starts with real-world fact/theory + something bugging the hell out of me. Besides, half the fun is in the research. No cope out magic potion to break him, thank you. :D

The Amazing Asakura. I like that! :D You can blame Atobe for his existence. He demands the best man I can give him. Well, if the gentle readers read MBW and 'break the rule', they can't blame me for not giving warning first. I did write the ending before the beginning. XD And we have been mentioning MBW all over the notes and reviews. Sigh … Beginnings and endings are easy. It's the middle that's hard.


	19. Chapter 19

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 19**

"Master Keigo," the receptionist's voice spoke up from his desk intercom. "Your three pm, a Miss Yuriko, is here to see you."

"Send her in."

A tall woman entered the room. She was professionally dressed in business suit with her hair caught neatly in a bun.

"Atobe Keigo, I presume?" she said, her voice lower than he had expected.

"You are Professor Silverman's recommendation?"

"I speak Japanese very fluently, among other things," she said with a smile. "O. Yuriko."

"That's the least of my minimum requirements."

"It rated 4 stars on your memo. Naturally, all other 5 stars requirements are easily fulfilled. Let's just say, based on your extensive criteria of selection, I fulfilled all of it."

Atobe raised an eyebrow sceptically. Then pointedly looked her up and down. "I will be the judge of that. Are you even old enough?"

"Why, Keigo, are you asking a lady her age?"

"Miss Yuriko, if you wish to work for me, you will address me as Atobe-san or Master Keigo."

"Of course, Atobe-san. To answer your question, I am older than you, Atobe-san."

Atobe snorted delicately. "Irrelevant."

"Perhaps, your real question is why am I not a grey haired old man with bushy beard and smoking jacket, and maybe a cigar. How quaint. I'm pleased to say - Welcome to the 21st century, Atobe-san. Therapists and psychiatrists no longer come in only one model."

"So you claim to be the latest model?"

"An advanced model, if you don't mind."

"Let's see your specifications."

"There is such thing as carrying a metaphor too far, Atobe-san. My _credentials_, if you please." Yuriko passed a file to Atobe.

Atobe scanned through it quickly. Then he passed the file to Asakura to be verified. "Now, Miss Yuriko, why should I hire you?"

"Atobe-san, perhaps it is because I am the only one who qualifies. Unless you intend to disqualify me on gender ..."

"Why would I do such a thing, nee-chan? I am an equal opportunist. A pretty face is equally discriminated as an ugly one, in favour of an intelligent mind. Gender is of no consequence."

"Oh my, what a polite little rude boy you are. Are you flirting with me?"

"No, madam. Not when I am on business. Are you?"

Yuriko laughed. "No, it's unprofessional. Give me some credit. Now, Atobe-san, if I am going to uproot myself from Vienna to take a case here, I need a good enough reason to do so. Tell me about the patient."

"It's a friend with dissociative identity disorder."

"Has he been seen and diagnosed by a local diagnostician?"

"No."

Yuriko frowned. "Then, how do you know he has DID?"

"It's obvious. He has two different personalities. Maybe three."

"You mean you diagnose him yourself?" she said incredulously. "Look, for his sake, he should be diagnosed first. And if I am going to take his case, I'd rather do the diagnosis myself. Can you arrange for me to meet him?"

"Which one? Shiroi is probably the easiest. Tezuka can be arranged, but it will be slightly unpleasant."

"The third?"

"Never met him. Only Shiroi mentioned him in passing."

"I take it Shiroi is the main personality?"

"Yes, Shiroi is the _host_."

"Right. I see you have familiarise yourself with the jargons. Very well. I would like to meet Shiroi."

Asakura returned quietly to Atobe's side. He passed the folder back to Atobe. Atobe scanned through the report, stopping a particular line. "O-. Oshitari?" He narrowed his eyes at Yuriko.

Yuriko smiled. She switched to her native kansai-ben. "I'm not a telepath. But I'm guessing, the name running though your head right now is 'Yuushi'."

"You are?"

"Yuushi's elder sister."

Atobe took out his mobile and dialled a recent number.

"Atobe! I don't hear from you for two years and suddenly, I get a call every week?"

"Hello, how are you?"

"Hello, yourself. I'm kinda busy right now." In the background, Atobe could hear a girl giggle.

"You knew."

Yuushi paused. "If that previous phone call and this one has any connection ... And from what I hear from my mother... I'm guessing you are asking about Yuriko."

"Yuushi, darling ..."

There was a wary silence. Then, a whispered, "She's right there listening to this conversation, isn't she?" There was a half-resigned groan. "Yes, she's my annoying big sister. She is also an expert in dissociative disorders. She just got called to Tokyo for some big important interview, all expenses paid. Mother couldn't stop talking about it fo-"

"Right." Atobe hung up. "Miss Yuriko, if I am going to hire you, you have to-"

"Keep all confidential details from my family, including Yuushi. Yes. It is part of my professional ethics. He won't know who my patient is, at least, not from me. Nor will he hear anything that is within doctor-patient confidentiality."

Atobe nodded. "Asakura will contact you on the date and time for the appointment. Keep yourself free for today and tomorrow."

That evening, Yuriko met Shiroi for the first time. He served refreshments to all of them with refined elegance. He was polite and mild and soft-spoken. He was too beautiful and graceful to be real in his simple white kimono. She felt herself dowdy and clumsy in his presence. Shiroi could make any woman feel like a failure to live up feminine virtues. And he did it in perfect innocence, free of judgement and accusation.

She also met Sanada Genichirou for the first time. He stood out like a mastiff guard dog. Solid, masculine, oppressive and protective. Watching her every word and every move, waiting for her to slip up. The contrast with Asakura was interesting. Asakura was the invisible bodyguard that only made his presence known when required. Sanada was a very visible threatening reminder, glowering a warning to all and sundry to mind themselves in his presence. He positioned himself between Shiroi and herself. Closer to Shiroi, to show his association and protective nature without uttering a single word. As if to protect the frail man from her.

Atobe, on the other hand, sprawled nonchalantly off to the side, exuding masculinity and indolence. He was affecting a pose of disinterest, but she should see the glittering interest in his sharp eyes. Just as she had not decided yet to take up Shiroi's case, he had not yet decided to hire her. This was as much Shiroi's interview as it was hers.

She spoke with Shiroi briefly. Most DID sufferers came to their first counselling or therapy session in their host personality. They, themselves, were unaware of the other alters. It was too common to see them in them in therapy for multiple reasons, except the real one. Long gaps of lost time and memory, uncontrolled rage, sudden unexplainable depression … Meeting strangers that seemed to know them by unfamiliar names. Finding themselves or their homes different from a moment ago. By the time they were sent to her, they were convinced they were crazy. They were hallucinating, hearing voices and no longer able to tell the difference between reality and delusions. Living in a world that no longer made sense. The host personality was often confused and frightened.

It took some time before other alters revealed themselves. And then, even longer, before the host was made aware and accepted the existence of his other selves. Then, small progressive steps were made in the process of healing. The first being, helping the different alters communicate with each other.

Shiroi was different. He knew his other alters. The most familiar being Tezuka. They don't get along very well, but they tried in their own way. According to Shiroi, Tezuka did not like him. But Tezuka was both wrathful and protective towards him. When asked his own feelings, Shiroi felt no anger or dislike. He seemed incapable of it. While he was afraid of Tezuka's anger, he also admired and respected him. There was something else too. Pity or gratitude? There were clear signs of ambivalence between them. But at least, they were communicating with each other, to a limited extent.

When asked to speak to Tezuka, Shiroi did not refuse out right. He simply stated that Tezuka did not wish to speak to her. When she asked him about the third alter, he became apologetically silent and uncommunicative. She pressed him a little more, only to have him deny everything. There was only the two of them. No such third person.

At that point, she did not press him further. He was becoming agitated. She did not want to stress him unnecessarily, not at that point. She found enough to pique her interest and satisfied herself on his current situation. She reassured Sanada that there was no reason she could see yet to remove Shiroi from his home and put him in an institution. As long as he did not show signs of harming himself or the people around him, she only needed to see him once a day.

Sanada gave her a wordless nod. Then, after a long thoughtful pause, a smaller nod to Atobe. She did not miss the non-verbal communication between them.

"Well?" asked Atobe.

"I'm willing to take up Shiroi's case, if you will have me. But I will need an office to work from. Quiet and controlled environment. Preferably nearby."

Atobe jerked his head towards Asakura, who handed her a contract, a set of apartment keys and a black and gold business card. The Atobe crest was discretely monogrammed in the back. "Report to Yomogi Institute of Mental Health tomorrow."

Yuriko smiled. Say what you like of Atobe Keigo, but he was, undeniably, a most competent and efficient man.

"By the way, that will be Dr. Yuriko to you, Atobe-san."

* * *

**Responses to Reviewers:**

**Aan** : What Asakura thinks of anything … hmmm. I'm afraid it will take a while. In Asakura's universe, people are either a threat or not to Atobe. He prides himself on his professionalism. More than that, Asakura is not the kind to make up his mind quickly about people. It's too early now, but he will show his personal feelings towards Tezuka later. I'm not sure yet, but this story might end with MBW scene, or it might progress beyond it. But MBW is standalone. There might be sequel to SM, if there's enough material and if I ever finish SM.

**Kamu** : Thank you.

**geecee**: I'm not going to answer about Tezuka. I'm glad you pointed out Tezuka's off-characteristic. It's deliberately OOC, but still IC in context (I hope). Ditto on crappy emo Atobe. But what offends me more were childish fanfics with OCs that abuses and disrespects Atobe and considers it 'cool'. For some reason, Tezuka is easy for me to write. Maybe because I can understand his introversion and rational mind. Atobe makes me work harder.


	20. Chapter 20

**Splintered Mirror  
Chapter 20  
**  
The first week, Sanada or Atobe accompanied Shiroi to his therapy sessions. Shiroi was polite and shy with Yuriko-sensei. Despite her best effort to form a trusting and therapeutic relationship with him, he was distant and detached to her. Yet, he was affectionate and animated to Atobe.

Tezuka, on the other hand, remained absent. She can't tell if Shiroi was purposely suppressing Tezuka, or he really refused to have any contact with her. He was, by Shiroi's accounts, the most likely personality for violent and self-destructive behaviour. It was imperative that she established communication with Tezuka before he did something destructive that would traumatise the other alters.

The third personality, nameless at the moment, was no more than conjecture. Shiroi would not admit to his existence. So, she had no proof of his or her existence. Only Atobe's deduction from a slipped word from Shiroi.

Atobe reluctantly offered to 'command' Shiroi to tell them about X, as he called that mysterious alter. She declined. It was too early for that. She rather reserve that as a last resort. Especially when Atobe appeared very reluctant to give any kind of order to Shiroi. She noticed he did not have the same problem with his other acquaintances.

At least, she had a pretty good idea Shiroi's role and function within that collective. He was the main front, the one who can be normal and happy in the outside world. The one who accepted and bore with situations that they could not change.

After two weeks, she changed tactics. She introduced a safe room to Shiroi. It was a plain room, with a large mirror on one wall and a large whiteboard on another. The props within can be changed depending on her approach and the patient's reaction.

One constant was that, when Shiroi was in the room, he would be completely alone and undisturbed for an hour. While she could observe him through the one-way mirror, she kept the fact hidden from him. She did not mention or hint on what she see in his alone time. As far as he was concerned, it was a place completely isolated and hidden from outsiders. He was allowed to do whatever he wanted.

In the beginning, she left some art supplies in the room. Most patients would use them to draw or write. Sometimes, the actions gave some clues to the less communicative patients. Sometimes, they were a form of stress reliever and even play-time. The whiteboard wall was a favourite with patients. It seemed to call out to the inner child to be allowed to do childish and naughty things like drawing on walls. Some sang or talked to themselves. The schizophrenic patients would reveal details of their hallucinations, talking or interacting with imaginary people.

Even so, Shiroi defied any kind of common or expected reactions. He simply sat in that big white room quietly for an hour. Until he was let out again. Day after day. Waiting? Meditating? It was hard to tell when he did not do anything. Not even to scratch his nose.

Eventually, she asked Shiroi what he did in the room.

"Waiting," said Shiroi.

"Waiting for what?"

"Waiting for when Sensei is ready to see Shiroi."

"Shiroi, the room is not for waiting. It is a special room just for Shiroi. You can do whatever you want inside without anyone looking or knowing about it. Would you like to bring something with you?"

Shiroi merely gave her a limpid look and shook his head.

In the mean time, Fuji renewed his effort to contact Atobe again. So far, Atobe had avoided all contact with Fuji. His staff were more than capable of filtering his calls and appointments. Asakura's team made sure he never came within 100 feet of Atobe. Needless to say, Asakura did not like Fuji at all.

On the other hand, Yanagi Renji was harder to avoid. He paid Sanada a surprise visit. He had a school break and was home for a week. Shiroi was at his therapy session with Atobe when he visited, so Sanada took Yanagi out for lunch.

At lunch, Yanagi told Sanada that Inui had been investigating Tezuka. He had also heard rumours from Niou that Sanada was involved with Tezuka. He asked Sanada if he had heard anything of Tezuka recently. Sanada was silent for a few moments. In the end, he decided he would not lie to Yanagi. He told Yanagi that Tezuka was living with him. But he asked Yanagi to keep Tezuka's location a secret from Inui for now. Tezuka was not in a good condition to meet any of his old Seigaku friends yet.

Yanagi accepted his words easily. But he warned Sanada that Tezuka's presence could not be hidden indefinitely. Eventually, Inui or one of his friends would find out. Sanada did not offer to let Yanagi see Tezuka. Yanagi did not ask. Instead, they spent the rest of the day in Yukimura's house.

After several days of non-progress with Shiroi, stimulus items were introduced into the room by Yuriko. Plastic toys, colourful cushions and children's books. Atobe looked askance and protested that Shiroi is not a baby or retarded. However, Shiroi began to play with the toys, building nests out of cushions. He did not touch the books.

Sanada, somewhat embarrassed, bought 10 rubic cubes one day. He made Atobe mixed up the colours and twisted the cubes out of shape, then scattered them around the room. When asked to justify his actions, Sanada simply explained that Tezuka was smart and an obsessively neat person. The mess, be it shape or colours would irritate him. Also, Shiroi did not appear to have the intelligence to solve the cubes. So, if he suddenly started solving the cubes, they would know that Tezuka had emerged.

In the beginning, Shiroi merely collected the cubes and smoothed out the twisted shapes. Then the cubes were neatly stacked and set aside like bricks. Then he sat in front of the stacks and stared at them. After 5 minutes of watching Shiroi stare at bricks, a bored Atobe told Sanada his brilliant idea was a failure. However, Yuriko allowed the experiment to continue, to keep an established and predictable pattern of leaving Shiroi undisturbed for the one hour in the safe room.

After another 30 minutes, Shiroi tentatively reached out and took one of the cubes. There was focus and curiosity in his eyes as he turned it around. Slowly, he began to solve the cube. They were pleased that Tezuka had emerged.

But partway through solving one of the cubes, he suddenly threw it away, as if it had bit him. The eyes had changed. They were suddenly sharp and alert, looking at the mirrored wall as if they could penetrate the glass and stare down the occupants of the other room.

"Leave us alone!" Tezuka's voice was low, dark and angry. He quickly undo cubes and scattered the neat stacks. Looking around, he spotted the door and tried it. Lacking leverage to force it open, he turned towards the mirror and threw himself at it repeatedly. At that point, they had to send in the wardens to subdue him.

All of them were shaken by the sudden change. That was the first time, Yuriko saw Tezuka. Unlike Shiroi, Tezuka showed that he understood the significance of the mirror and the games.

"That was Tezuka all right," said Atobe. "Just that, I've never heard Tezuka used that tone before. Tezuka was a difficult man to anger."

"Aa. Tezuka never lost his temper, even in the worst situation." Sanada explained.

"Too bad. I thought he was showing some improvement earlier." Atobe said.

"Why does Shiroi call him Tezuka?" Yuriko asked. "According to his file, his birth name is Tezuka Kunimitsu. Wouldn't he call himself by his own given name?"

"Hah! Nobody, and I mean nobody, addresses Tezuka by his given name, except his family. Even Sanada gets called Genichirou by his friends. Maybe Tezuka even calls himself 'Tezuka' when he talks to himself." Atobe shrugged and sat back into the couch.

"That's not it." She tapped her pen, watching the sedated man lying among the scattered cushions in the padded room. "The one that solved the cube and the one that undo them were different personality. I wonder who is this third one. Which one was 'Tezuka' that you have met?"

"Most likely the one that noticed the mirror and tried to escape." said Atobe. Sanada nodded in agreement.

"Then the one that solved the cubes is possibly a hidden one. I would like to talk to him. He looks more approachable than 'Tezuka'. I hope he would be more co-operative."

Despite the cubes and hours of waiting, the third hidden alter did not appear again for the next five days. The therapist added more books, hoping to bore Shiroi and snare the third alter out. She switched the materials from children's picture books to elementary level mathematics, general knowledge and basic English. She put in several simple German language books after Atobe told her that Tezuka was fluent in German. They had discussed Greek and German literature and philosophy during the quiet hours while waiting for the fish to bite. Both Atobe and Sanada agreed that it was not the time to bring up anything tennis-related and omitted such materials from his safe room.

Most of the new materials were ignored by Shiroi. Sometimes, in a fit of boredom, Shiroi would tear the pages. He was remorseful afterwards, apologising and pasting them back together.

After five days, the hidden alter made another emergence. None of them noticed at first. They had supplied Shiroi with colour pencils and crayons, hoping for a breakthrough through art. Shiroi doodled with them, sometimes, colouring the illustrations in the books. But nothing of real substance emerged. So none of them knew when the third emerged.

They only noticed that one of the pages in the mathematics book had printing error and someone corrected it with red colour pencil. Looking through other books, they noticed corrections in the German books as well. The next day, those pages were torn to unrecognisable shreds. Shiroi was so distraught he couldn't repair them, he cried for hours, until Atobe stepped in, comforted him and told him it was all right. They took the torn books away.

Given Tezuka's violent temper, Yuriko suggested Shiroi to be admitted into the institute, where they could keep an eye on him. So far, he had avoided all contact with her. Not even Atobe's questionable method of stressing Shiroi could bring him out. The irony was, the only thing they could predict, was that Tezuka seemed to emerge shortly after the mysterious third. Usually to destroy or remove any traces of his existence.

She became convinced Tezuka was an aggressor protector of the collective. He was very protective of the third alter. So much so, she could not identify and make contact with the third alter in the short time he was present, before Tezuka emerged.

When she tried to talk to him, he retreated and let Shiroi deal with her. She knew he knew that his tactics worked. Talking to Shiroi was like dealing with a new born baby. It was cute, helpless and pliant. At the same time, it was like trying to discuss Quantum Physics with a brick wall. It was an exercise in futility.

She had to get to Tezuka first. She had to get him to stabilise and accept her. Then, she had to curb his aggressions and hostility before she can even begin to work on the third alter.

* * *

**Notes:**

The therapy methodology and details are imaginary. They are inspired by current practice/theory with very liberal application of artistic license for dramatic and plot purposes.

- Yuriko (百合子): Japanese name meaning "hundred-perfect-child."

- Usual treatment for DID is through psychotherapy, with combination of medication for the other co-morbidity (depression, anxiety, etc).

- Therapist seeks to make contact with as many alters as possible and to understand their roles and functions in the patient's life. Especially to form an effective relationship with any personalities that are responsible for violent or self-destructive behaviour, and to curb this behaviour. The therapist seeks to establish communication among the personality states and to find ones that have memories of traumatic events in the patient's past.

* * *

**Responses to Reviewers:**

Thank you to the silent readers for the Favs and Alerts.

**Blue bird of paradise** : I also see Tezuka and Oishi as friends and PoT Fanfic-writers are not fond of Gen/Friendship themes. Unfortunately, while I can see Oishi as part of the recovery stage, he is not strong enough to carry Tezuka's story on his own. About MBW, I just meant I'm going to add warning to Chapter 1 so new readers are aware of spoilers in MBW.

**Kamu** : Glad you like Yuushi's sister. No, I don't intend to leave a too open ending. There is a lot more to cover and loose ends to tie up. I appreciate your effort to write English. :)

**Aan** : Yes, Yukimura, Niou and Yagyuu know. But only Yagyuu has met Shiroi/Tezuka personally. Well, for the Seigaku regulars, not yet. There are two persons that need to show up first before they comeback to the story. Well, in this universe, Yukimura/Sanada are not a pairing. They are just friends, though Yukimura is also acting as Sanada's therapist. :D Well, I have to agree with you on Oishi vs Fuji. Don't see anything beyond fanservice when it comes to Tezuka and Fuji. Oishi has a stronger connection to Tezuka. Except Golden Pair has eclipsed that in most people's mind.

**geecee** : Well, Yuriko is both canon and fanon. Oshitari's profile mentioned he has an older sister. So I made her up and gave her a name. You were lucky to start with LJ. I noticed OCs are practically non-existent there and the quality of writing is much higher.


	21. Chapter 21

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 21  
**  
"Keigo-sama! Keigo-sama!" Shiroi's called the moment he saw Atobe.

Atobe quickly went to his side. Shiroi clung to him, eyes wide, fearful. Yet, heart-breakingly trusting Atobe could and would protect him.

"Make her stop, Keigo-sama. It hurts. She keeps waking Tezuka and the other one. She makes Tezuka angry."

"It's all right," Atobe tried to reassure him. Not for the first time. "She just wants to talk to Tezuka."

"No! No! Please!" Shiroi wailed. His distress unabated as he buried his face into Atobe's lapel. "Must not wake Tezuka. Must not make Tezuka angry. Tezuka do bad things when angry."

"It's all right. She is just trying to talk to Tezuka."

"I want to go home. Please, Keigo-sama."

Atobe kept stroking his head and patting his back. At least hysteria had wound down to whining. He briefly wondered, not for the first time, how he ended up in such a role. A cold and calculative bastard like him playing nanny; protector and comforter of a helpless little thing... Yet Shiroi had wormed his way into Atobe's life. In many ways he could not fully comprehend.

Perhaps it was as Sanada had said. He trapped himself when he decided to get involved. Now that he had bought Shiroi, he was responsible for his welfare and wellbeing. Not that Sanada said that in so many words. He merely brushed off Atobe's well deserved long-suffering venting with a succinct : 'You bought him, now you have to take care of him'.

Atobe had not quite forgiven him for accusing Atobe of treating Shiroi like a charity pet Atobe had rescued from some disreputable pet shop. It implied Atobe had a heart. That he was nice. It was unacceptable. Atobe Keigo was a narsistic self-centred unsympathetic jerk. He was not a philanthropist. He did not rescue dogs or orphans. He calculated donations based on publicity, perceived public image and tax exemptions.

"It's all right. Don't cry. We'll go home now." Atobe pulled Shiroi to his feet. "Asakura, driver." He turned to leave. Stopped. Shiroi held his sleeve, left-handed.

"Atobe. Atobe Keigo." It was odd, jarring. Shiroi's voice changed.

Sanada narrowed his eyes. He was instantly alert. It was only a feeling. Sanada's relaxed stance had remained unchanged.

"A ... Atobe. Atobe?" Like a man testing his vocal chords after years of silence.

"Yes, that is my name."

"K... Ku... Kunimitsu. T ... Te... Tez... Tezuka Kunimitsu. My name is Tezuka Kunimitsu?"

"You are Tezuka." It was Sanada who said that.

He blinked. "Sanada!" He looked confused. "Did Atobe call you here? Are you here to play?"

"Play?"

"Tennis. Is your exams over?"

"Oi! What date is today, Tezuka?"

"20th December. You just finished your final paper yesterday. I won't go easy on you just because you haven't recovered from exams yet."

Sanada and Atobe exchanged looks. "Tezuka, we've played that game."

"Oh. Then, have I told you Ojiisan asked you to join us for fishing trip next week?"

Atobe narrowed his eyes. He did remember Tezuka's invitation. Tezuka-ojiisan took away their high-tech expensive fishing rods. They were handed a pair of primitive looking bamboo rods called tebane. So primitive, it did not even have a reel. There was a hook and weight on one end. The line ran through the hollow tube inside the bamboo. And the other end of the line was wounded around a bamboo peg.

Tezuka-ojiisan looked like a fishing god, handling two rods simultaneously, pulling fish after fish out with economic efficiency. Both of them fumbled clumsily after the old man, trying to 'feel' for the bottom and attract fishy interest. Then, the boat captain prepared fresh goby sashimi from their catch. He told them it was near the end of goby season, so the fishes were bigger and suitable for sashimi. When Atobe haughtily demanded why he had never heard of goby sashimi in any of the finest sushi restaurants, the captain laughed and said that plate of sashimi they just ate would cost a restaurant owner 20 thousand yen worth of live fish. Since goby did not have the same notoriety as fugu, it did not make good business sense to put it on the menu.

Atobe nodded to Tezuka. "The goby tempura was good. The sashimi was better."

"Tezuka? What's wrong?" asked Sanada.

Tezuka held his hands before him. They were wet. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He frowned. It was not right. The tears. The pain. The loss. The cold hard lump in his heart. Feelings without reason. It was not like him. He did not understand why he was crying.

"Tezuka?"

"Atobe ... What is happening to me?"

Atobe was silent. There were so many wrongs he did not know where to start.

It was the therapist who said, "What are you feeling?"

Tezuka's eyes lost focus. Like he was looking inside himself. Looking for something that cannot be seen. "I feel sad. It hurts." Whispery soft, hoarse with pain. "When I say Ojiisan." He swayed and stumbled.

In a blink Sanada was behind him, steady and solid. Holding up his elbows. Keeping him upright.

"My name is Kunimitsu," he panted urgently. Like it was of great importance and great pain. "I am Kunimitsu. Don't let me forget. Don't take away my name. Please. Don't take it away. Don't let me forget."

"Kunimitsu." Atobe's voice was soft. Loaded with importance and gravity.

Kunimitsu gave a wavering nod. He closed his eyes and slumped bonelessly against Sanada.

Atobe and Sanada sat at the living room. Atobe with a steaming cup of coffee. The fragrance tickled his nose. Sanada held a small teacup in his left palm, turning it slowly with the right. The cherry blossoms and swallows followed each other, turn by turn.

"That was the old Tezuka we used to know, Sanada. Dare I say it ... the real one. At least he remembered you."

Sanada nodded. "So, the Tezuka we've been seeing is not the real Tezuka either. I think this is the third one we've been speculating on."

"This third one, _Kunimitsu_, is closer to the real Tezuka. He remembered our games. And he talks like the old Tezuka."

Sanada nodded. "What do we do now? The therapist would want Tezuka back in the institute."

"Don't worry about that. I pay her salary. She will do whatever I tell her to. Let him rest here a few days. Then, we can coax Shiroi to talk to her again."

The next week, Shiroi went back to the institute with Atobe. Sanada told him he had something he wanted to follow up on, but refused to tell Atobe what it was about. Atobe hoped it wasn't troublesome news from Yanagi. But it was likely, given Yanagi's recent visit, his current residence and study in Tokyo University, and Sanada's _something_leading him to the heart of Tokyo. Atobe decided it was premature to speculate. He pushed the thought out of his mind to focus on Shiroi.

"Sensei-dono, please don't hurt Tezuka-san." Shiroi spoke from the floor where he knelt in deep obeisance. "Shiroi... Shiroi does not have the right to ask for anything. Please ... Shiroi humbly begs you."

Atobe frowned darkly. He did not like it when Shiroi became like that.

"Shiroi, aren't you afraid of him? Don't you want Tezuka to disappear forever?"

Shiroi gasped. "No! Sensei-dono, please don't say that. Shiroi does not want that."

"Does he frighten you?"

"Yes. Sometimes."

"Do you hate him?"

"No! Never. Tezuka-san... Tezuka-san protects us."

"Shiroi, are you ready to talk about Tezuka?"

Shiroi's fingers clutched tightly at Atobe's sleeves. He nodded slowly. "If Keigo-sama is here. It's all right if Keigo-sama is here. Tezuka-san will be calm if Keigo-sama is with Shiroi."

Atobe gave him a reassuring pat.

Yuriko sighed. She rarely had productive session with Shiroi alone. Atobe and Sanada's presence seemed to engender better responses from Shiroi. When he was alone with her, he was prone to passive resistance. Becoming silent, attentive, but unresponsive. It was a rare manifestation.

Most DID alters were prone to childish outbursts. Running the gamut from temper tantrums, rebellious machismo, rudeness, weepiness, to excessively fearful. Some snubbed her in their haughtiness. Some ignored her, just to get her angry and frustrated.

Shiroi simply sat there. He paid attention to her. He was unfailing polite. He was alert and responsive and cooperative. Except when it came to Tezuka and the third alter. Then, he just clammed up or passed 'messages' from Tezuka. It was hard to get angry at him. But it was also frustratingly slow to make progress with him. It was unusual and that translated to barrel loads of data for a paper. That was the paradox of Tezuka Kunimitsu.

After some thought, Yuriko nodded her assent. "Go on."

"Shiroi would never hate Tezuka-san, Sensei-dono. Tezuka-san protects all of us. Shiroi and the Secret. Tezuka-san do things that Shiroi couldn't. Knows things Shiroi does not understand." Shiroi took a deep shuddering breath.

"Tezuka-san took all the pain, all the hate, and all the sad things. To protect Shiroi. So that Shiroi could live. So that Shiroi could learn to be happy. So that Shiroi would not know anger, fear or hate or disappointment or loneliness or despair. Tezuka-san keeps all those things and all the reasons to himself. He said those things were unnecessary. Shiroi should be like his name. Clean white. Without ideas, without rights or wrongs. An empty cup. Tezuka-san would be the full cup, who knew too much and could no longer learn new things. All of this, to protect the Secret. Tezuka-san made Shiroi promise. If Shiroi want us to live, then both of us must protect the Secret from the Outside."

Yuriko held her palm up to pause his accounts. "This Secret is _Kunimitsu?"_

Shiroi nodded. "He woke up by himself. Shiroi thinks Keigo-sama and Sanada-san called him up. Tezuka-san was angry. But later ... Later, he said it was all right if it was Keigo-sama. Keigo-sama won't hurt Kunimitsu. Keigo-sama would protect us. All of us. Keigo-sama also has his own protection. Tezuka said that was very important. It was the reason Tezuka allowed Shiroi to stay with Keigo-sama. Shiroi do not understand. But Shiroi promised Tezuka to protect Keigo-sama. Not allow Master's men to hurt Keigo-sama.

"Tezuka said if the Outside finds out. If the Outside try to hurt Keigo-sama because he knew the Secret, Tezuka will sacrifice Shiroi. Tezuka will not hold back if he had to hurt other people. Tezuka cannot lie. Tezuka will not lie. Then, they will lock us away. Or kill us. But that is all right. Bad people that should be punished. Tezuka is sorry he can't promise Shiroi will live after that. Shiroi may have to die. But it was all right. It will be an acceptable death."

Atobe shivered hearing Shiroi's long monologue. He pulled Shiroi closer. "You think too much and carry it too far, Tezuka." He murmured into Shiroi's hair.

"Tezuka is right, Keigo-sama. Shiroi could not bear it if Keigo-sama ... If anything happens to Keigo-sama."

"Silly Shiroi," Atobe said fondly. "It is as Tezuka said. I have my own protection. Tezuka need not do any unnecessary things."

The next day, Yuriko had both Atobe and Sanada in her office. She thought it was time she interviewed them properly. She had been hired to handle Shiroi's case by Atobe. Till now, she had not inquired too closely into their relationship to her patient. Now that she was delving into more confidential areas of Shiroi's case, she had to weigh how much Shiroi and herself should discuss in their presence. Granted, with both of them present, Shiroi tended to be more stable and communicative.

Sanada was surprised at her request. Atobe merely acted bored, as she had expected. They had left Shiroi alone in the saferoom. The three of them sat at the adjacent room, where she could keep an eye on her patient through the one-way mirror.

Atobe leaned back against the sofa, feet propped on a low table. The picture of relaxed, indolent elegance. Sanada sat ramrod straight, on full alert and attention. Rigid, coiled so tightly the tension could snap instantly and explosively. She could not help notice the contrast between them. Two unlikely collaborators.

"Before I proceed further with Shiroi, I would like you to define you relationship with Shiroi. Are you friends, relatives or lovers? What is you involvement in this? Sanada-san, you may speak first."

Sanada was silent. Then he said, "I am none of those things. I am involved because Atobe dragged me into this. I, that is, we knew each other. Tezuka, Atobe and I. We were rivals from different schools."

"We were rivals in tennis. Seigaku, Hyoutei and Rikkaidai." Atobe said with a yawn. "Tezuka was my best and ultimate arch-rival. We were both captains of our team and Students Council President of our school. Sanada is of no consequence."

Sanada casually moved his elbow. A slight movement that made Atobe doubled up in pain and scooted away looking offended. "What Atobe meant was we knew each other in Junior High. But I would not call us friends."

"Then why are you here? You are not friends or relations. Why bother? What are your vested interest?"

"Sensei, you would not understand this. It is called dignity. Tezuka was highly respected among us. A peer who upholds our dignity. Tezuka was one of the people that represents the rest of us," said Sanada.

Atobe shrugged. It was only natural that the Captains, Tezuka and Yukimura included, set the code of conduct and terms of engagement for the rest of their members. For Atobe, it was a little different. "I supposed you could say Tezuka and I became sort of friends, towards the end of school year. That was all. "

Sanada raised an eyebrow questioningly. Atobe considered Tezuka a friend? That was saying something, coming from someone like Atobe.

The therapist caught his scepticism. "You have something to add, Sanada-san?"

"Do you even have friends, Atobe?"

"Obviously you wouldn't know that, not being worthy enough to be in my exalted circle." Atobe glared at him balefully. "Madam, you may ignore Sanada. He is merely hired help."

"Would you like to prove your exalted worthiness outside, Atobe?" said Sanada with no little menace in his tone.

Atobe simply turned up his nose and did not dignify that with an answer.

"I'm afraid I have to exclude both of you from future sessions, unless you are Shiroi/Tezuka's authorised proxy or legal representative. I would appreciate it if you could contact his immediate family."

Atobe huffed impatiently.

Sanada, a little more civil, merely frowned darkly and said, "That's the problem. He no longer has any immediate family."

"Bottom-line is, he wouldn't be here if he has family. That should be obvious."

"I will need Shiroi's consent for your presence during his sessions. Atobe-san, as the client and initiator, you will be provided with the assessments and progress reports from those sessions. But you should not be present in individual sessions."

Sanada nodded. "It's fine."

"I hope you have better luck handling him all by yourself," quipped Atobe, smiling ferally.

She merely nodded to his surface response and ignored his rather childish underlying insult. "Is there anyone close to him that I can speak to? Friends? Colleagues?"

Sanada thought for a moment. "I don't think you would want to speak to his recent acquaintances. Besides, they probably don't even remember his name. As for friends ... perhaps his old team mates?"

"Are they still friends?"

"I still keep in touch with everyone in Rikkaidai. Don't you?"

"Can't be bothered. Hyotei has over 200 members. It's not like there are only a pitiful handful of you in Rikkaidai."

"Seigaku has 30 odd members at its peak. Renji is still in touch with Inui. He should be able to track the rest down, at least the regulars under Tezuka's leadership. The regulars should be the closest friends to Tezuka in school."

"Please do, Sanada-san. Thank you very much."

"It's been seven years, Sanada. Besides, you know how badly Shiroi reacted to Seigaku's Fuji. Are you trying to make him run away again?"

"Explain please, Atobe-san."

Atobe went on to tell her about Shiroi's brief encounters with Fuji, as much as he understood from Shiroi and what he had heard from Fuji. He was quite certain that by now, Fuji had informed the rest of his team mates.

Nevertheless, her instinct told her she should get their point of view. Especially if she hoped to draw out Tezuka again and find a way to reintegrate the two disparate personalities into a complete whole. But it can wait until the right moment. In the meantime, she would try to understand Shiroi's past. The gaps that none of them knew or were willing to reveal.

* * *

**Notes:**  
Tokyo Bay goby (haze) fishing season is between September and December.  
Traditional way to eat spiny goby (haze) in Tokyo is tempura, fried in batter.

I managed to link up three pre-written segments. Things actually progressed faster than I'd expected.

**Responses to Reviewers:**

Aan : Good call. This chapter answers your question about the Third. Yuriko at this time only suspects Shiroi's previous occupation. Sanada and Atobe on the same team? They'd probably over power all opponents while sniping between the lines. Those two are too conscious of being 'big boys' to be fighting outright like Momo and Kaidou.

Geecee : I must be getting predictable. :P Bingo on Kunimitsu. Yes, it was the 'violent' Tezuka that appeared in the first chapter. As for remembering Sanada, that's one reason.

Kamu : Thank you. Glad to know I'm doing OK on balancing between keeping mystery and revealing details bit by bit.


	22. Chapter 22

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 22**

One day, Sanada asked Atobe to meet up in a cafe in Tokyo. He did not say much. He simply told Atobe that he found someone. When Atobe arrived, Sanada was seated with a woman in her thirties.

"Atobe, this is Kiriya Rie. Kiriya-san is a nurse at Kyojuni Children's Hospital in Saitama Perfecture. Eight years ago, she was a nurse at Edogawa Hospital Children's Ward. She was one of the nurses that attended to Tezuka."

Despite the suddenness and mystery of the meeting, Atobe did not miss a beat. "Thank you for finding her and arranging for this, Sanada," he said urbanely. "Good afternoon, Kiriya-san. We would like you to tell us what you know about Tezuka." Atobe smiled charmingly as he took out a picture of Tezuka. It was taken from a party thrown by Atobe at the end of the National Tournament. The last one Atobe had of Tezuka before they parted company.

Kiriya smiled wistfully at the picture. "It was a long time ago ... but he was my first coma patient, back when I was still a young inexperienced nurse."

* * *

"Mmm ... erh ... kaa ..."

Kiriya gently pat her patient's right arm. She murmured gentle soothing words while keeping an eye on the blood pressure monitor. Slowly, the numbers counted down, then stabillised. In a few minutes, he became still and silent again. On his chart, she noted the date, time and observations. At the top, the attending surgeon had noted "GCS = E1-V2-M4". No eye opening, imcomprehensible vocal expression, physical withdrawal from pain. Under "Nursing attention" someone scrawled "Ensure left arm immobilised and strapped down at all times. Head trauma - alert Neurosurgeon if drain bottle exceeds 10mm per day!"

Kiriya checked the cast around the upper arm. She massaged some cream around the openings. Then retied the straps around the cast and his wrist. The stitches, a long line that ran from his shoulder to elbow, looked red but dry where visible.

Next, she carefully lifted his head to check the stitches running from behind his left ear to the base of his head. His shaved hair had started to regrow, making a stubbly rasp on her latex gloves. A thin drainage tube connected the base of his head to a small bottle. It was red with fresh and half-dried blood. She took readings from the bottle attached to it and noted it down on the chart. "It's almost stopped. The tube can come out tomorrow, ..." She checked the chart. "Tezuka-kun."

"Jii ...," he said, followed by what sounded like half sob.

"You're talkative today, Tezuka-kun." Kiriya smiled softly at her new charge. He had just been transferred out of the ICU into paediatrics ward. After checking the drip line and catheter, she tucked the blankets around him.

Seeing that she was finished with his neighbour, an eight year old boy tugged on Kiriya's skirt for his share of attention. She smiled impishly at him. "Good morning, Kaito-kun. Are you ready for your medicine?"

Kaito gave her a vigourous nod. He scrambled up his bed to perch at the tray table. He watched carefully as Kiriya set 3 small cups on the table. "Red," he chirped as Kiriya poured his medicine one by one. "Green. White." At white, he screwed up his face and watched the level carefully. "Stop!" Kiriya grinned at him. Kaito didn't like the white one. He made especially sure that she didn't pour out more than the minimum he had to drink. Finally, Kiriya set a glass of water at the end of the line. Kaito picked the white one with a grimmace. Then he quickly followed with the red, then green. Finally, the glass of water.

As Kiriya started cleaning up, Kaito knew it was time for questions. "Kiriya-san, is he going to wake up soon and play with me?" He craned his neck at the newcomer.

"No, Kaito-kun. He's still sleeping. Maybe tomorrow."

"Kiriya-san, why is he bald?"

"Tezuka-san had brain surgery. They have to shave his hair so that they can operate."

"Uuoo ..." Kaito stared at the other boy fascinated. He had never met anyone with brain surgery before. "Did the doctors take out his brain and put in a new one?"

Kiriya giggled and shook her head. "The doctors just repaired his old one. That's why he is sleeping now. He needs a lot of sleep to repair his brain."

"He looks old. If he sleeps anymore, he will grow even older. Like ojiisan! Ojiisan sleeps and sleeps and sleeps all the time."

"He is 15, Kaito-kun. You should call him Tezuka-oniisan."

"Can I wake him now?"

"You can say hello and talk to him softly. Would you like to do that?"

With a quick nod, Kaito climbed down his bed and scampered to Tezuka's side. "Hello, oniisan. I am Haruka Kaito." He cocked his head waiting. Tezuka remained silent. "Oniisan ... wake up!" Kaito gave the bed rail a shake.

"Kaito-kun," Kiriya said sternly. "Talk softly. And don't shake him or touch him. He is very sick."

"Mou ... it's boring." Kaito scuffed his feet.

"If you behave, you mama will be here soon. Why don't you show oniisan how to you make the puzzle."

Kiriya pulled down Tezuka's table to Kaito's height and put his box of jigsaw puzzle on it. Kaito eagerly came to her side. He opened the box and held up the pieces one by one. "This one is the lion tail. This one is the elephant feet. See, it's grey and round..."

"Kiriya-san, oniisan sleeps more than ojiisan. If he sleeps all the time, no one will want to play with him. Is that why oniisan's mama doesn't come and play with him?" It had been three days since Tezuka moved in.

Kiriya ruffled Kaito's hair. Despite Kaito's complaints, he spent more and more time at Tezuka's bed. Telling him stories, painting and even watching TV and giving a running commentary while he curled at Tezuka's feet. "He has you to talk to him, Kaito-kun. I'm sure he won't miss his mama too much if you play with him." Kiriya tucked Kaito in and bade him good night.

Kiriya hooked a chair at the nurses station and sat down with a relieved sigh. It had been a long busy day.

The night duty doctor walked in with a magazine in hand. "Hey, Tanaka. That boy that was brought in for head trauma ... Is this the one? Tezuka Kunimitsu. He's famous!" Dr. Abe Morimoto waved a centre-fold page of a boy in blue and white uniform posing with a tennis racquet.

Tanaka scowled at Abe. "I was looking at the back of his head, not the front. Is this one of your tennis idle talk again?"

"Hey, don't be so grumpy."

"Abe-sensei, may I see that?" Kiriya said. "It's Tezuka-san, sensei. He is in Ward 12."

"Eh, Kiriya-kun. Can I peek at him?"

"Abe, he's in coma for 20 days all ready. He's not going to give you an autograph." Tanaka signed off the last prescription with a flourish.

"Ah, I wasn't going to ask for autograph. I am just concerned. That's right, we should all cultivate a doctor's caring and concerned personality."

"Baka! What is so professional about sneaking looks at 15 year-old boys? You should be at your station in the emergency ward!"

"I still have 20 minutes till the start of my shift. Please, Kiriya-kun."

Kiriya did not answer him. Another voice cut in.

"Abe-sensei. Please come in the morning." The matron looked sternly at the young doctor. "It is past visitation time. We should not disturb the children."

"Ah .. Sorry, Nakamura-san. I will come visit in the morning."

As the matron walked off to start her rounds, the other nurses gathered around Kiriya. "Is this the coma boy in Ward 12?"

"Tezuka Kunimitsu, age 14, captain of Seishun Gakuen Tennis Club last year. First school to beat Rikkai Dai Fuzoku in 15 years. Current champion team of All Japan Junior High Tennis Tournament," Abe read aloud from the magazine. "You know, he is also one of three students from Japan to be selected as next Olympics candidates." Then he sighed. "The poor boy. Paramedics said the family were DOA. It was touch and go with the boy. His heart stopped once on the way to the hospital."

Automatically, all eyes turned to the monitor on the nurse station. On the section marked 12A-Tezuka, the ECG traced a steady high steep peak, followed by shallow valley, a small hill and wide plateau. Beep... beep... beep... Kiriya shuddered and shook herself. It broke the spell they were under. The room drew a collective deep breath. It was a normal sinus rhythm. The patient was stable and out of danger. Tanaka smacked Abe upside the head with his clipboard and the room returned to its normal banter.

Normal conversations flowed into the background as Kiriya turned to look at the room marked 12. _That's why no one has come to visit Tezuka-kun yet. Even Kaito-kun has all ready noticed it. _Kiriya thought how Tezuka was still unaware of his loss. It would be hard on him if he did wake up.

"Kiriya-san, let me have a look at the magazine." Tanaka startled Kiriya out of her musing.

"Here, sensei."

Tanaka frowned at the picture. "Is the picture reversed, Abe? He's holding the racquet on the left."

Abe shook his head. "He is left-handed. There are two of them in the team. See the boy with the white cap? That's the other one. Why?"

Tanaka shook his head and frowned again. "I need to speak to Sakai-sensei. It wasn't in his chart. Does he have any prior medical records?"

Abe shrugged. "Not in this hospital."

Kiriya shook her head. "What's wrong, Tanaka-sensei?"

"He came in with severe injuries on his upper left body. I had to remove 2 glass fragments from his skull. Sakai-sensei removed another 17 fragments from his shoulder, back and arm. At that time, we thought he was lucky it was not on the right. But if he is left-handed, and an athlete ... it was worse that we thought. He might never play again. Not with the extent of damage to the radial nerve."

"Paralysis?"

"Don't know till the fracture heal and we run some tests. Sakai-sensei is optimistic he would have some basic functionality to the limb."

As days ran to weeks, Kaito went home to be replaced by Minabu, Touya, Ren and many others. Kiriya and the nurses were the only constant in Tezuka's life. Not once had Tezuka awakened from his stupor.

* * *

"After about one month, Tezuka-kun was moved to a nursing home for long term care. At that time, Tanaka-san wasn't sure if he would ever wake up. I don't know what happened to Tezuka-kun after that. Did ... did he recover? Is he still alive?" asked Kiriya softly.

Atobe and Sanada exchanged a look. Finally, Atobe pulled out another picture. A recent one taken at the institute. It was of Shiroi when he was in the safe-room. There was an undefinable quality to his expression. A kind of unconscious melancholy that Atobe guessed made him a successful doll. "He did, Kiriya-san. This is him."

Kiriya took the photograph. Her hand shook. She saw the unsmiling man in it, face tranquil, eyes full of unspoken pain. She smiled her gratitude at Atobe and Sanada. It was a closure for her. So she smiled a smile of relief laced with sadness.

Tezuka was in ICU for 17 days, then transferred to children's ward. He was transferred 42 days later to Edokita Nursing Home. On 8th November, he was discharged from Edokita Nursing Home.

* * *

**Note:**

I'm not a medical professional. This is what I gathered from some biology and medical texts (as much as I can understand and extrapolate from them). Yes, I googled medical texts for the sake accuracy - as much as possible. Please let me know if something is incorrectly interpreted or misrepresented. Please do not take the content of this story as real medical knowledge. If you want to know more details about the medical details, please see below.

* Coma patients are graded by Gasglow Coma Index (GCS) ranging from 3 to 15. 3-8 is considered severe deep coma. 15 is normal (fully conscious and aware).

* Unlike what you see on TV, coma patients don't lie around like a log, unless there is physical reason (paralysis) or extremely deep coma. They can move around and make sounds like a sleeping person. They can even open their eyes and pull out needles without being 'conscious'.

* Care of coma patients can be pretty gruesome; including feeding tube through the nose or cut directly into the stomach, catheter, IV drip, breathing tube, restraining straps, etc. Also, due to being prone for a long time, they lose muscle tone. Some have bedsores due to lying in the same position for too long. Most became malnourished. They are susceptible to pneumonia, infections and abrasions from various tubes/needles, stiff joints. (I'm being nice by giving Tezuka a good caring nurse who knows what to do with a coma patient. Also not giving him a semi-permanent feeding tube stuck directly into his stomach.)

* DOA - dead on arrival

* Radial nerve runs from back of the shoulder down the upper arm, branching into forearm and wrist. It controls motor to forearm and wrists. Sensory to back of the hand and web between thumb and index finger. Radial nerve can also be damaged/injured due to fracture of the humerus (upper arm bone). Symptoms affect hand, forearm, area around thumb, index and middle fingers.

* References: "Radial nerve dysfunction, NLM" and "Coma: A State of Profound Unconsciousness" by Doman, R.J., NACD Journal.

* * *

**Responses to Reviewers**

**Aan** : Almost cry? I need to try harder. Hmm … maybe Atobe's self-talk is a bit too strongly worded. He doesn't hate himself. But he has certain image to maintain. It will be further clarified in a later scene.

**Geecee** : Yeah, you did! The three identities were very loosely modelled on Sigmund Freud's theory of the three parts of human psyche: id, ego, and super-ego. Then given personalities and independence. I'm not telling which is which. :D I know., It's really hard to keep Tezuka IC. Even anime Tezuka is slightly OOC to manga Tezuka. Tezuka gets less screen time than the rest, it's hard to portray him accurately with so little material to work with. Sometimes, I wonder if his VA Okiayu is so expensive, he is paid by number of syllables. It would explain the mysteriously short lines of Tezuka, Byakuya, Scar, etc. 10-yo writing M-rated fics? OMG! I guess I would have similar reactions to you. Even teenagers make me want to give the kid a bunch of erotica novella to learn how to do it properly. Maybe it's a good thing I don't have kids. :P Please ramble on. FF-net says there's 1000 chars worth of rambling to be had.


	23. Chapter 23

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 23**

After Kiriya-san left, Atobe and Sanada went off for their weekly tennis game. But after first game, Sanada sighed heavily and called for time out. Atobe followed his example. He propped his racquet next to Sanada's and threw himself on the bench.

"You were playing like a sissy," complained Atobe amiably.

"So were you. There were no power in your serves."

"What's wrong with you?"

Sanada did not answer. He picked up a stray ball and turned it in his hand. "I'm not in the mood for tennis," he said heavily.

Hearing Sanada's words seemed to deflate all of Atobe's energy. He slumped against Sanada's side, using him as human backrest. He looked up to the bright blue sky and the stray fat clouds. "He will never play again. Not like he used to." He need not name names. Their direction of thought that day were closely aligned.

"Can it be cured?"

"Not by the current level of medical science. I checked after the nurse left."

Sanada remained silent, thinking of another captain. The doubts and confusion that it generated. The pain and frustrations that followed after. The anger and resignation that were inevitable. It was unreal. An impossible thing that did not make sense. For three years in Senior High, Yukimura and his tennis haunted Sanada's. The game play and mindset that inspired him. He was the first that Yukimura confided in when he had a relapse. It was month later that they told the rest of the club members.

Then, it was many more months of Yukimura fighting himself, fighting for his life, fighting for his tennis. Sanada thought he would break just watching his friend struggling. He did not allow himself to break. For Yukimura's sake, he must not break. As long as Sanada did not give up on him, Yukimura could not give up on himself. In the end, Yukimura's family interceded and asked Yukimura to quit. Kirihara had a hard time understanding why Yukimura to dropped out of Tennis Club. Yanagi knew. Sanada did not want to, but tried to accept it. Yukimura's condition had worsened. He could die from over exertion. Yukimura quit Tennis Club. It was months after he filed the paperwork that he finally accepted the fact that Yukimura would never return to the courts.

Three years. Tezuka and his tennis haunted him for three long years too. Three long years that felt like a life time. In the last year of Elementary school, Tezuka had challenged Sanada to a 3-set match and showed him the limitless possibilities that he had not thought of. That there was something beyond Muga no Kyouchi. With his kendo background, he thought himself unique for reaching such a state of mastery. Muga-mushin was an advanced concept of budou (Martial Arts) that was virtually unknown in Tennis. (It was years later that he learned Tezuka himself was not unfamiliar with budou, with his judo and jujutsu background.) But Tezuka had shown him, in 2 humiliating sets, that attaining Muga state was simply a milestone. Not yet an end. There were things beyond Muga that he had been ignorant of.

In the three years that followed, he had tracked Tezuka's progress and setbacks. It started as a matter of pride and rivalry. He had to prove himself better. It had pushed Yukimura and himself to become closer friends. That last year of Elementary School. That Final Junior Tournament and the matches after ... that was the definitive point that defined his Junior High School life. Two losses in a single day. Two giants in tennis that spurred and shaped him. Now gone.

"Damn!" said Atobe softly. It echoed Sanada's sentiment exactly. Atobe was the one who had to give up tennis. Tezuka was the one who didn't have to. How did their roles reversed so drastically? It wasn't fair. Tezuka was the one who would carry both their teenage dreams with him. Atobe's 'could have been' tennis career safe in Tezuka's hands. By now, at age 24, he should have a string of trophies to his name.

_Atobe gave a box to Tezuka._ "_Open it."_

_Tezuka gave him a quizzical glance, but did not comment. It was not customary to open gifts in front of the giver. But Atobe, being Atobe, was a rule onto himself. He took perverse pleasure in breaking as many unwritten rules as he could get away with. Within the box was a set of wrist and head bands in white on white. Tezuka took one wristband out to find the inner side embroidered with 4 kanji characters in gold thread. 'Atobe Keigo'. He flipped over the other one to find his own name, 'Tezuka Kunimitsu'._

_"Make sure you wear the right ones in Wimbledon."_

_"Thank you," said Tezuka simply. He did not ask why Wimbledon. Aside from being the oldest, he knew it was the closest Atobe considered a 'home' tournament. "I'll save you a court-side seat."_

_"Oh? Make it the Finals. So I can mock all your opponents and scandalise all your fans. Or maybe the other way around."_

_"You may have to wait a while for that."_

_"Not too long. I am not a patient man."_

"Let's cancel tennis. I can't play right now." Sanada flipped the ball over his shoulder.

Only Atobe's quick reflexes allowed him to sit up and catch it before it hit his head. "How about a drink? I could use a drink right now. Make that a few."

Sanada handed Atobe his tennis-bag in answer.

Yukimura opened the door to find Sanada limned against the darkness outside. He was leaning heavily with one shoulder on the door frame.

Another unfamiliar figure approached from behind. He wordlessly dropped Sanada's tennis-bag next to him. Then, with a respectful nod to Yukimura, melted back into the night.

"Sanada."

"Yukimura."

"Are you drunk?"

"No-o," slurred Sanada. "N-not as drunk as Atobe."

"Come in." He took the bag and let Sanada stumbled his way behind him.

Sanada found his way to the nearest couch and dropped into it like a stone. "-tobe 's got a bottomless pit in his stomach."

"Where have you been all day?"

"Tokyo. Found nurse."

"You were out drinking all day with Atobe and nurses?"

"After nurse. I can still walk! Ha!"

Yukimura shook his head. "I supposed both of you tried to drink each other under the table."

"Mmm."

"Drink this." Yukimura shoved a bottle of orange juice at him.

"Not sake," complained Sanada after the first mouthful.

"Drink it all anyway," said Yukimura sweetly.

"Mmm." Automatically, Sanada guzzled the whole bottle. Then, he turned over and started snoring.

Yukimura rearranged him into a more comfortable position. Then covered him with a spare blanket.

Sanada woke up to the smell of eggs and toast and coffee. Yukimura's huge luminous eyes were watching him curiously as he munched on his toast. Next to him was a pot of African violets. The fussy plant was in full bloom, crowned with a cluster of fragile blue-violet flowers. He only knew that because he can't be Yukimura's closest friend and not know a thing or twenty about Yukimura's obsessions with plants and gardening.

"You are still alive." Yukimura's voice was smooth as honey, laced with amusement.

Sanada groaned. The light stabbed his eyes like daggers. His head felt like kumi-daiko in full swing.

"I hope you picked a good day to get drunk. Like say ... your off-duty day, perhaps?"

Sanada blinked blearily at his watch and swore softly. "I'm late."

"I called your supervisor. You can stay here today."

"Thanks. Sorry."

Sanada looked much better by lunch time. As long as Yukimura knew him, he wasn't prone to indulge in excesses. Except where Atobe was concerned. He shook his head fondly. With both Tezuka and Atobe gone from Japan, Sanada had been deprived of suitable rivals in Senior High. Not even Yanagi gave him much work out.

There were times, Yukimura had secretly watched their practice from the roof top. It took all his will power to stop himself from going down to the courts. He wanted to point out their errors. Chastise their bad forms and sloppy back hands. Run through footwork drills till they drop. Give a real match to Sanada just to see that burning fire in his eyes again and stretch him to his limit and beyond. Even Sanada was unaware of his own despondency from the lack of people who could play him evenly. So, despite Sanada's belligerence towards Atobe, Yukimura was pleased to hear he was back. Sanada was more spirited and lively since Atobe gate-crashed into his life the second time.

Many had asked why Sanada had not chosen the same path as Tezuka. He was offered the same JTA scholarship too. In Yukimura's Junior Year 3, the principal had even asked him to talk Sanada into accepting it. He was just as good, if not better. But Yukimura knew, unlike Tezuka, Sanada had never intended to make a career out of tennis. He had, since his Elementary school days, decided in a career in Law Enforcement. He was a son of Sanada family, after all.

Tennis was his personal 'thing' that defined and differentiated him from the rest of his family. It was a way for him to channel his energy and competitive spirit. It was, in some ways, an escape and a means to find himself outside the ponderous traditions and expectations of his own family. In tennis, he could be something else other than the 'baby'. Tennis was something, but not everything to Sanada Genichirou.

"Did you regret it?"

"Hmm?"

"Tennis."

Yukimura gave him a rueful smile. "I missed it. Sometimes." No, unlike Sanada, tennis was everything to Yukimura. He liked winning. But there was more. There were perfection and passion and life in tennis. From the slow step by step build up of skills and techniques to the explosive transience of execution in a real match. The brief burst of brilliance that was the crowning glory of the long labourious process of training and research and meticulous planning. Unlike art that was static and remained long after the artist is dead. Unlike the flowers and fruits and shapes of plants that he carefully cultivated. In tennis, he was both the maker and the product of his making.

"I would have stood with you."

"It wasn't ... I can't go on the way I did in Junior High. I cannot put my family through that kind of crisis again. I would have died for my stubbornness, doing what I loved most. But I had to grow up. My family value my questionable long life over my brief ambition." He ran his fingers along the velvety flower petals. It wasn't just tennis he had to give up on. It was also any and all strenuous activities imaginable. Including the more physical aspects of gardening. No more spending hours in the outdoor garden hoeing and digging and wresting half-grown saplings taller than him. "Besides, having my sister hovering outside the fences every tennis practice was too disruptive."

Sanada did not comment. But his inscrutable eyes were eloquent enough disbelieve Yukimura's poor attempt to dismiss it lightly.

"It was not an easy decision. Nor an easy choice to live with. But I will not allow this disease to take away everything from me."

Sanada looked conflicted. Back then, he would have supported Yukimura in whatever decision he made. Even if Yukimura had chosen an early grave to a long slow decline. Now, he preferred a living breathing Yukimura to a dead one. But it came at a cost.

He knew Yukimura had his bad days. But for as long as Sanada remembered, Yukimura always appeared happy and healthy. The kind of mental fortitude and iron will and inextinguishable determination required to do it was not a small effort. Yanagi had warned him that it was expected for someone in Yukimura's situation to fall into depression. But Yukimura was determined to be happy and normal and independently capable in spite of his illness. And he damned well did it. Sanada could not even begin to understand what and how he did it.

"Why are you so morbid today?" asked Yukimura.

"Tezuka ..."

"Ah."

"If ... When. That is, when he ... could you talk to him? Maybe you can help him better than I could. He's not ready now. But Atobe said, the therapist will bring back all of Tezuka's memories. All the good and the bad. It would be the hardest part of his recovery. So, I thought, if I could find all the bad parts, Atobe and I could somehow prepare for it. Or prepare Tezuka for it. It won't be as bad when the time comes. But we were having a hard time accepting this ourselves. I don't know if we could even be any help. We didn't do very well."

Yukimura smiled softly. "You all ready helped. Just by being there, instead of shunning him." Senior High was hard. New students that did not know him. Some thought him frail and easily cowed. He quickly disillusioned them with a few strategic jabs. He was uniquely well-acquainted with the human nervous system. Some acted like he was contagious, avoiding all contact with him. It hurt, but at least he could ignore them. The whispers behind his back for special treatment whenever he was excused from certain activities, especially PE and cleaning duties. It was those treated him like a fragile flower that was most annoying. Hovering and doing every little thing for him. Making him feel useless and weak and a burden. Obliging him to feel grateful for small favours he did not ask for nor wanted. It was worse because he knew they meant well and he can't resent that.

Sanada had never allowed that. For which he was eternally grateful. Yukimura still had his two feet and two hands. He could very well pick up his own trays and carry his own bag. He never allowed Yukimura to feel sorry for himself. Neither did he treated Yukimura like a helpless invalid. Sanada and Yanagi talked to him about everything, tapping on Yukimura's reservoir of experience and wisdom as captain and accomplished athlete. Be it related to tennis, leadership, personal or disciplinary.

The others had a harder time adjusting. But Niou quickly found an ally in him for sheer creative mischief-making. He even transferred himself into Yukimura's class. It was how he ended with an Art major. Though, after the first two weeks, he thought Niou might have second thoughts about sitting next to him. After all, even if he enjoyed a bit of fun, it did not mean he would allow Niou to slack off academically. Niou's school records had never looked so pristine as the year he sat next to Yukimura.

In time, the others went back to normal. As normal as it could be, under the circumstances. He did not reinstate his membership in the Tennis Club, avoided showing himself near the courts and during practices. But outside of Tennis Club, they still hanged out together. They would unconsciously turn to him, then Sanada, whenever they looked for leadership direction. But he was glad to be able to step back and let Sanada and Yanagi take over as their 'unofficial' leader. It allowed the others to see him as an equal, rather than Yukimura-buchou. It didn't mean they were above appealing to him whenever they thought Sanada was acting too much like a wet blanket.

"Yukimura ..."

"I'll be happy to help whenever you need me."

* * *

**Notes:**

**African violets**- African violets have a reputation as difficult and fussy plants. It is a compact plant with a wide variety of flower forms and colours. With carefully controlled conditions, it is possible to make it bloom several times a year. Some master growers can keep their African violets in bloom nearly all year round.

**kumi-daiko**- Taiko (japanese drum) ensemble consisting of several shapes, pitches and sizes of drums and multiple players with performances lasting 5 to 25 minutes.

**Response to Reviewers:**

Hmm … this chapter turned out more introspective than I intended. Anyway … Yay! For passing 100! And congrats Aan for snagging #100. And yay! For half my RL crises taken care of

**Aan:** Don't worry. This is the last medical detail. The rest are not visible, more for confirming or discarding scenarios. You pretty much got everything. There's one extra detail though that I did not mention, but I guess it's easy to make that assumption. But it'll be clarified when another canon character shows up. You're right. Tezuka wouldn't become like this on his own. The Master made Tezuka become like that? Well, I'd say partly. The Master and his men only knew of two personalities, not all three. Seigaku's strongest man in manga? It's between around Chapter 42-48. It's even shorter than anime version, but it has a different spin on Oishi's role. And I actually liked the way Oishi is portrayed better than Anime. Oh! I forgot to mention that there were some debate about where to put teenagers in a hospital, if the hospital has separate adult and children ward. Under 12 and above 18 were clear-cut cases. But teens, especially between 14 to 18 were sometimes put into adult wards. There are calls for having separate wards for teens, especially late teens who have different needs from young children.

**Geecee: **Couldn't resist a jab at the old gag on Tezuka's age. Well, if you watched Full Metal Alchemist the first version, he's Scar. Which about the most dialogue I ever heard out of him. His voice is what I imagine when I think of dark-Tezuka. And OMG! I just found him singing _Ore wa Usamimi Kamen_ from a cutesey anime 'Onegai, My Melody'. Dies laughing listening to Tezzie's voice with cheesy lyrics.

**Kamu:** Thank you.


	24. Chapter 24

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 24**

It had been several weeks since Atobe and Sanada had been excluded from most of Shiroi's sessions. Atobe was going through the status report of the week from Yuriko. He had not seen Shiroi yet as Shiroi was in his 'safe-room' when he arrived that morning.

He had gathered from the report that Yuriko had not had any breakthrough yet in communicating directly with Tezuka. He had emerged several times, following Kunimitsu's appearance. But she had not been able talk to him or Kunimitsu in person. But she had made some progress in retraining Shiroi through behavioural and cognitive therapy to a more functional and independent life. Socialising Shiroi to modern Japanese cultural norms required slow careful work to undo the aberrant programming he had been subjected to and reteaching him new concepts.

Sanada was also perusing his own copy of the report. He was strangely quiet lately. Although Atobe had to admit, he was also more thoughtful. He saw more of Shiroi than Atobe, often stopping by after work or on his day off. He always brought small gifts for Shiroi. Small comforts like a tin of good _sencha_ leaves and set of beautiful ceramic tea set. Sometimes, it was home-made _wagashi_from his mother or sister-in-law. There were even several scrolls of Japanese calligraphy decorating Shiroi's room. All of them were Sanada's brush work. Though, where Atobe was concerned, he did not see how a few panels of cryptic words would be of any help.

Bang!

Shiroi jumped in shocked. He quickly scrambled to a corner for the room. He curled himself up into foetal position, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his ears with cushions.

"No! No! No. No. No ..."

Bang!

He covered his mouth with his hands to muffle his scream. "Stop! No! No no no ..."

"What was that?" asked Atobe.

"Some kids playing balloons outside," said Sanada.

"I'll get rid of them," said Asakura as he went out the door.

Atobe turned to see Yuriko had entered the safe-room. Shiroi was labouring to breathe. Sweat beaded his forehead and his whole body shook.

"Pupils dilated. Pulse 150. Hyperventilating. Shivers." He heard her muttered softly.

Aloud, Yuriko said, "It's okay. You're safe here." She had one hand on his pulse point. "Slow deep breath. It's okay. It's safe here. Come now, slow deep breath. In, two, three ... Out, five, six. In ... "

"Hnnn ...!" He was curled into a tight ball, trying to control his own reactions.

"It's not Shiroi," said Atobe, recognising the deeper voice. "It's Tezuka."

On the other side, the therapist was still speaking slowly and calmly. "Slow deep breath. In, two, three ... Out, five, six. That's it. Good. One more time ... "

Slowly, Tezuka calmed down. His breathing deepened and slowed. His muscles became less stiff and tensed. His heart rate and blood pressure slowly dropped to normal levels.

"I am going to have this floor sound-proofed," muttered Atobe irritably.

As Tezuka regained awareness, he pushed Yuriko away. He pressed himself flat against the wall while he eyed her warily like a cornered animal.

Yuriko remained still, sitting on the floor while keeping her body language as non-threatening as possible. She continued to speak softly and gently as Tezuka rode the last waves of the panic attack.

At last, Tezuka drew a long shuddering breath. He covered his eyes with his hands as he tried to regain his composure. When he looked back up, his eyes were once again lucid.

"I can't let them suffer this."

"You can't protect them all the time. Three of you are stronger than just one of you. You need them."

"No!"

"I won't force you to share your secrets with the Shiroi and Kunimitsu. Not until you are ready. But let me help you. If you won't talk to them, at least talk to me."

Tezuka looked from Yuriko on the floor to Atobe at the door. He shook his head. "I want talk to Atobe."

Yuriko nodded and left the room. Atobe closed the door behind her.

Tezuka remained tensed. His eyes flicked between Atobe and the big mirror. Atobe went over and pulled the drapes over the mirror. Then, he located the hidden microphone and turned it off.

"Well?" he said as he lowered himself on a pile of cushions next to Tezuka.

Tezuka did not answer. He looked down and fingered the cuff of his pants nervously.

"You wanted to ask me something?"

"Is she ...?"

There were some things that never changed about Tezuka Kunimitsu, thought Atobe. One of them was his silences, filled with meanings that had no sound. There was a reason why both of them, unlikely as it seemed, got along rather well. He was as fluent at deciphering unspoken words as Tezuka was at speaking it.

"Do you trust me?" asked Atobe softly.

Tezuka shrugged.

"She's paid to help you. She can be an idiot. Comes from being over educated. But ..." Atobe shrugged in return. "She might be worth listening to."

Tezuka blinked at him, as if asking Atobe if it was even remotely logical for Tezuka to accept someone Atobe called an idiot.

Atobe stretched his long legs, toes nudging Tezuka's knee. "These shrinks are all idiots. They don't know everything. But they do know some useful things. She's less an idiot that most. And if she starts talking about your mother or Oedipus complex, I'll tell her to shut up."

"Fair enough," rasped Tezuka.

"Why are you asking me? You always preferred to make up your own mind. Never mind what other people think."

Tezuka looked up. His gaze clear and piercing as he looked directly into Atobe's eyes. "My sense of judgement is ... unreliable. I don't even trust myself right now."

Atobe looked back at him grimly. Neither agreeing nor disagreeing with him. More importantly, he did not dismiss it out of hand.

"Can I trust your judgement?"

Atobe grimaced. "I'll stop you if you go too far. I'll stop her if she goes too far before you are ready. I'll fire her if she tries something stupid. Is that good enough for you?"

"Will you promise to protect them?" Tezuka asked. It was a loaded question. Tezuka asking permission to relinquish control. It was inconceivable, yet here he was.

"No," said Atobe simply. "I will do my best to help you. All of you. Protecting just Kunimitsu and Shiroi is obviously not working any more. I won't promise such a thing. I won't make a promise that I would break. Look, it worked for a while. When Shiroi was necessary. But you and I know Shiroi cannot cope with the real world. Shiroi is not even necessary now. So, which one of you are going to cope with the big bad world out there? Or are you going to make another imaginary self to take over? Are you going to keep doing this and make it worse than it has to be? Or are you going to let us help you?"

Tezuka remained silent.

"I'm not saying it's going to be easy and painless. But I can promise that Sanada and I will be here when you need us. We are here to support you."

"I can't ... You have spent too much on us all ready."

"That's right. You don't have the right to ask. But I have the right to spend my time and efforts as I see fit."

"I can't repay you ..."

"Think of it as a loan. You owe me. So, you better get cured and get out of here as soon as possible."

"Then, you best cut your losses and leave now."

"Ha! As if you don't know me any better ... I am really bad at giving up."

"Atobe ..."

"Look. You ... Do you still remember what we talked about? When I found out." _When I told you I was leaving Tokyo. That I was never meant to have friends. I had stayed too long in Hyoutei. Made friends that I should not have. That I could never have friends. That was the price for bearing the Atobe name. That was the price for being Atobe Keigo. An Atobe had to be ruthless and flawless. Without showing any weakness. Being nice was a weakness. Friends were weaknesses that could be exploited._

Tezuka gave him a slow nod. _I heard. I remembered telling you that friends cannot be decided by other people, not even family. It can only be chosen by oneself. And most times, it was circumstances that chose your friends for you, __not the other way around._  
_  
_Atobe had said_, 'Ore-sama am going to thump fate and destiny and stupid unwritten otou-sama rules. Ore-sama choose you!'_

And Tezuka told him, '_I am not Pokemon.'_

Then Atobe said, '_Damn Jirou and his video games! I actually know what you are talking about. What's your excuse?'_

Tezuka replied, '_Babysitting neighbour's 6-year-old kid.'_

And they both laughed. But they chose each other.

Atobe stretched. "I really am bad at giving up," said Atobe with a catch in his voice. "And I don't like bad investments. Especially personal investments. You are currently my biggest personal investment yet. I will be very displeased if I don't get a good ROI out of you."

"I can't ... I don't even trust myself. How can you trust me?"

"Right now, there are only three people outside this room that I trust. Are you going to deprive me of another ally?"

"There is no future for me. I'll just drag you down."

"Oh no. I'm not accepting any excuses from you. I'm not going to let you escape so easily. You owe me. You have get yourself into college. And you damn well better graduate _summa cum laude_. You have to work for me. To pay off your debt. Admit it. I pay better than anyone else in the market."

"Atobe ..."

"I _chose_you. You are mine! I refuse to let you go." Atobe smirked. "I've got an opening with your name on it. You better fix yourself up properly. Don't make me wait too long. I might start charging interest."

A corner of Tezuka's lips quirked upward. "Idiot."

"My Pikachu." Atobe tugged Tezuka's braid playfully.

Tezuka gave him an annoyed look at his childish behaviour. "I never understood why anyone would name their pet something that sounded like a sneeze."

Atobe gave him an open-mouthed stare. "Why, Tezuka. You do have a sense of humour."

"Be quiet."

"I'll get you a Pikachu soft toy if you are a good boy."

"Am not Akutagawa-kun. Be quiet."

"Make me."

"You had sex with Shiroi."

"Ooo ... going straight for offence. Did you peek?" asked Atobe frivolously. "Does it turn you on?" He would not to be out done. The old Tezuka was rarely aggressive in verbal exchanges. He was a man of actions, while Atobe was a man of words. While Atobe loved debating, Tezuka preferred to grunt his agreement or disagreement. Atobe considered it a major accomplishment that he was the only one who could provoke Tezuka enough to engage in a spirited verbal debate.

Tezuka shrugged. "At least you're better than most of the perverts that he slept with."

"Are you calling me a pervert?"

"Pervert," Tezuka dead-panned.

Atobe stared open-mouthed at Tezuka. "Uu ..." he sputtered speechlessly.

The other corner of Tezuka's lips twitched.

"I hate you!"

"Sore loser."

"Arrgh!" growled Atobe in frustration. He threw a large cushion at Tezuka, toppling both of them onto the floor.

They both lay side by side, nose to nose, without touching. They both grew quiet. Atobe's eyes grew soft. It had been a long time since he could drop his perfect mask.

Tezuka blinked and the moment was broken. "If you kiss me, I will hit you," he said.

Atobe sat up indignantly. "I'd rather kiss Shiroi. You're not my type!"

Tezuka looked up quietly at him. There was unspoken sadness in his eyes.

"It's my problem," muttered Atobe. "I'll deal with it when the time comes." Aloud, he said, "Stop trying to fix other people's problem. Fix your own first. You are a damned martyr, you know that?"

"And you liked playing the Devil too much."

"What's wrong with that?"

"It is not you. You are a kinder person than that."

"Hey! Don't let other people hear you say that. They'd think you've lost a marble."

"Or you've just gone soft."

"Ha! Like anyone is going to believe you. Oresama is oresama."

"And I am not me. They don't have to think I'm insane. It's all ready a fact."

"Look … Don't say that," said Atobe, shifting to seriousness again. "You are not crazy. Would you let that woman talk to ... Kunimitsu?" Atobe shook his head. "It's weird saying that. We were never on first name basis."

"No."

"You can't hide him forever."

But Tezuka remained silent. He turned his back to Atobe.

"Tezuka? Stop being childish."

"I am tired." He wrapped his arms tightly around himself.

"Hey! That kind of attitude is not going to help you."

"Nothing I do mean anything any more. I am a failure. Nothing is ever going to be right any more. I don't want to live. But I can't die. I should have died. I should have-"

"Stop it!" shouted Atobe. "Stop it! Stop it! Don't you dare say that."

"Look at us! I promised to take care of us. But I can't even do that. I am just as powerless here. How is this any different from the Master? Shiroi is as much a prisoner here." Tezuka laughed darkly. "He doesn't even know why. He will stupidly stay here and wonder if Keigo-sama grew tired of him all ready. Is Sanada-san angry with him? So he can't stay in Sanada-san's house any more. He is confused and his poor little heart is breaking. But he can't show it. Oh no. He cannot show a sad face in front of people. But he is a sad little thing. We are sad little things. Look at what freaks we have become. Maybe this is the only place fit for us. Behind padded walls and grid-iron windows."

"Tezuka!" Atobe grabbed Tezuka's shoulder.

Faster than the eye can see, Tezuka brushed him off and pushed him back, sending him sprawling among the cushions.

"Don't touch me!" he said wildly. "Don't touch me! I will kill you! I will kill anyone that touch me! I will-" His eyes flickered, like he was wrestling with himself. Then, softly, he whispered, "I shouldn't be here." And crumpled to the floor.

"Tezuka?" Atobe shook him.

"Keigo-sama!" Shiroi said happily.

"Shiroi." Atobe took a deep breath, willing his heart to slow down. "Are you all right?"

Shiroi nodded dumbly. He did not remember when Keigo-sama came in. Or what he was doing on the floor.

"Good. I ... ah ... I have to take care of something. I'll be back." Atobe walked out as calmly as he could.

Sanada was waiting for him outside the door. He grabbed Atobe's arm and dropped him into the nearest chair. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure," Atobe said shakily. "For a moment ... for a moment, I thought I reached Tezuka. Then, he just ... lost it. Out of control. Shiroi is back now."

"You should not have turned off the mike," said Yuriko angrily.

"You think Tezuka is stupid?" retorted Atobe. "I'm sure you know better than I do what confidentiality means. Shiroi may have given his consent. Tezuka did not."

Yuriko frowned unhappily but did not contradict him.

"What did you say to Tezuka?" asked Sanada.

"Nothing. I just touched his shoulder ..."

Sanada stared at him sceptically.

"No, it could happen ..." said Yuriko thoughtful. "Was Tezuka physically or sexually abused before? He could be reactive to physical touch."

"We don't know for sure. It's probable," said Sanada.

"Look, there is something Tezuka mentioned. We should give Shiroi a little more freedom."

"Not while Tezuka is -"

"Tezuka will behave himself as long as Kunimitsu is safe."

"How ca-"

"You heard Shiroi said it himself. You've seen Tezuka's behaviour. They are protecting Kunimitsu. Kunimitsu won't come out unless there is a compelling reason. Like what we've been doing to draw him out."

Yuriko sighed. "I will re-evaluate Shiroi's progress and widen his access if I think he is ready."

Atobe opened his mouth to protest, but Yuriko held up a finger to forestall him.

"I'll also give him a weekly pass to go out of the institute if he is accompanied."

Sanada nodded. Seeing Asakura returned, he was reminded of the origin of the incident. He turned to Yuriko. "What was going on with Tezuka? Why did he ...? It wasn't Kunimitsu that brought him out this time."

"It was a symptom of post traumatic stress disorder. The loud explosive noise triggered it, causing a panic attack. He was probably experiencing the physical reactions to the traumatic event, or worse, reliving it." Yuriko pursed her lips in irritation. "How could any medical professional allow a minor loose and untreated for so long?" she muttered irritably.

"You figure it out," said Atobe. "I'm checking Shiroi out for the next three days. That cottage in Kansai needs a surprise inspection. Sanada is in charge while I'm gone."

"You can't-!"

Atobe raised an elegant eyebrow, stopping Yuriko in mid-sentence.

She took a deep breath. "Please keep an eye on him at all times. Keep him away from loud sudden noises. We don't know what else can trigger a reaction, so do what I did earlier. Talk to him calmly and slowly guide him out of it. Don't touch him or startle him. Don't crowd him. Don't ..." Yuriko found herself talking to thin air.

Atobe yanked the door to the safe-room open. "Come on, Shiroi. We're going on a trip. Have you seen the sands in Shima peninsula? White and clean and fine as talcum powder. You'll like the seafood there. Abalone, lobsters, sea urchin, tuna, seaweeds ... Best oysters in Japan. Bigger than your hand. You can keep whatever pearls you find in your oysters."

He walked out, hand in hand with Shiroi, still talking.

* * *

**Notes:**  
**sencha **- green tea made from dried tea leaves and strained. Opposed to matcha, green tea made from powdered leaves usually used in tea ceremony.  
**wagashi **- traditional Japanese confectionery which is often served with tea.  
**Goza Shirahama Beach **- located in Kansai region, Mie prefecture, on the Shima peninsula. Famous for saltwater oyster cultures.  
**ROI **- Return of Investment. Business term. Ratio of money gained or lost on an investment relative to the amount of money invested. Usually expressed in percentage.

**Symptoms of PTSD:**

Increased anxiety and emotional arousal  
Intense physical reactions to reminders of the event (e.g. pounding heart, rapid breathing, nausea, muscle tension, sweating)  
Inability to remember important aspects of the trauma  
Sense of a limited future (don't expect to live a normal life span, get married, have a career)  
Feeling jumpy and easily startled

**Symptoms of Anxiety or panic attacks:**

Surge of overwhelming panic  
Feeling of losing control or going crazy  
Heart palpitations or chest pain  
Feeling like going to pass out  
Trouble breathing or choking sensation  
Hyperventilation  
Hot flashes or chills  
Trembling or shaking  
Feeling detached or unreal

**Responses to Reviewers:**

**Aan**: Not only you made it in time, you are first, as usual. :D Glad you liked Atobe and Sanada's heart-to-heart. I can hear the collective 'finally' from the readers. Hehe! Well, Seigaku boys will show up in time. It's harder to get them in since both Atobe and Sanada are not closely associated with them. While Atobe went to Oshitari Yuushi, Sanada naturally turned to Yukimura.

**Geecee**: I totally *heart* you! I can't resist having Yukimura take a jab at J-drama's stereotypical scene caused Sanada's incoherence. I intended Atobe's gift and Atobe's connection to Tezuka exactly as you described. I think Yukimura, worse than Fuji, is too often twisted by fanon into something unrecognisable. For someone that Sanada and Rikkaidai kids respected that highly, he had to be very strong, both mentally and spiritually. But he is also very different from the Tokyo-based captains (Atobe/Tezuka/Tachibana), in that he stops being captain outside of tennis club. I see him as a nice person with complex personal issues. He don't lead through fear; but through understanding, getting results and deep affection. I don't like fanon's sadistic version of Yukimura. Nor the weak feminine version of Yukimura. He is a boy, not angsty teenage girl. Sorry for the rant. :P

I only know Usamimi Kamen as a character from OMM's 2nd season. Really looked like a spoof of Batman to me, even to the pink equiv of Batmobile and multi-purpose butler. Yeah! I love Okiayu's mellow songs best. He really has the voice for those kind of tunes.

**Kamu**: I'd like to see Tezuka-Yukimura-Sanada reunion too. Too bad Shin PoT didn't give us a Tezuka-Yukimura match.


	25. Chapter 25

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 25**

"Good morning, Atobe-san."

Atobe took one look at his 9:00 am appointment and said, "Throw him out."

Asakura immediately set himself between Atobe and the young man at the door.

His secretary gave him a surprised look. The appointment had been made and approved by Atobe two months ago. It was a collaboration between Tokyo University and Atobe Corp, where the best journalism student was given the privilege of a one-on-one interview with Atobe Keigo, the youngest and most successful entrepreneur of his generation.

"Wait!" said the young man in a barely passable grey suit. He gave a brown paper envelope to one of the security men converging on him. There was no way he could reach Atobe without being tackled by several men at once. As soon as the envelope left his hand, he turned around, brushing off several restraining hands. "You can find me at the cafe next door," he called over his shoulder as he walked himself out.

The envelope was promptly passed to Asakura. Then, the security details left as silently as they had entered.

Atobe held his hand up for the item, but Asakura did not pass it to him. Instead, Asakura tilted his head towards Atobe's desk.

"Fine," said Atobe. He obediently went back to his seat at the other end of the room. "I don't think Inui was trying to poison me," he remarked, seeing Asakura putting latex gloves on and slipping the item into a sealed plastic bag. "But then, when it comes to that person, he does have a looser definition of food than normal people."

"Inui?" Asakura looked back at Atobe. "Your appointment was with Hakase Renharu."

Atobe shrugged. "Fake name. If it's any consolation, I don't think he was trying to murder me for some misguided reasons."

Asakura flattened his lips in dissatisfaction. Someone had gotten as far as Atobe's office without proper background check, under false name. There would be hell to pay before the day was over.

"Is this highly confidential?" asked Asakura.

"it will be related to Tezuka."

Asakura sighed. He barked a short order into his mike. In a moment, one of his men came in and took position behind Atobe's chair. "I'll deal with this myself," he said as he went out.

Half hour later, he returned with the envelope again. "It's clean," he said. Only then, did he allow Atobe to touch it.

Atobe dismissed everyone in the room except Asakura before he opened the content. There was only one photograph within. The picture of a building's main entrance and Shiroi walking into it. Atobe knew it was taken just a week ago, when Shiroi and he returned from their beach trip. Shiroi was sporting a slight tan and new sunglasses that Atobe bought for him. Behind it was a simple note:

_'I know where you are hiding him. -Inui'_

"Blackmail?" asked Asakura.

Atobe shook his head. "Is he still in the cafe?"

"Yes."

Atobe did not ask how Asakura knew without having x-ray vision. "Let him stew for a few more hours, then send for him."

"If he leaves before that?"

"He won't. He'd calculated the probability of me seeing him to a ridiculous degree and will stay there till it dropped to 0."

"Can I call my men back? He is making them nervous mumbling numbers to himself and drinking from a suspicious looking flask. They are half convinced he is a terrorist." Asakura shook his head. "Wouldn't want to get him shot by mistake."

"Leave one there to keep an eye on him. He's generally harmless, as long as you don't accept any food or drinks from him. Wouldn't sic Inui on my worst enemy." Atobe smirked. "That is, unless I get to watch!" he added cheerfully.

Tezuka once commented that Inui was both the most helpful and most troublesome of his team members. He was capable of managing the rest of the members and he was the first to volunteer to help Tezuka in running the club. He was the most mature mentally, capable of maintaining healthy competition without petty jealousy or rancour. But Tezuka also needed to watch him more carefully. Inui was very much a 15-year-old teen with a teenager's appetite for fun. Sometimes, Tezuka wondered if he was the only one that noticed Inui's ruse.

Inui was more mischievous than his serious appearance gave him credit for. Tezuka suspected Inui cultivated the nerdy self-image to hide his true nature. As Student Council President, he was privy to the staffs' personal opinions of Inui. Inui was automatically categorised as a model student by teachers on first impression. Tezuka knew he got away with a lot more mischief than someone who was more outwardly playful, like Kikumaru. But Tezuka knew, while Inui created more chaos and mayhem, he was rarely reprimanded for them. The real genius to Inui's plans was that his mischief were approved and willingly implemented by the teachers themselves, maintaining his perfect innocence.

Not having to deal with Inui himself, Atobe could certainly appreciate Inui's subterfuge. After all, he also took pride in his ability to manipulate people and events to his advantage. He grinned mischievously at Asakura. "I definitely want a front row seat for the show."

Asakura frowned at Atobe's cryptic remark but did not comment. Atobe grinning to himself like he was enjoying a secret joke was usually a good sign for Asakura to start worrying and get seriously paranoid. He had better send two of his men out to Inui's apartment to check for poisons, just in case.

He never thought a spoilt little rich brat like Atobe could know so many varied and colourful people. He had expected Atobe to only keep company with the other rich and spoilt brats of his peers. All equally self-centred, thoughtless and pretentious. While Atobe did spend a significant portion of his time socialising with the glittering golden demographics, he was also capable of mixing with the ordinary and the misfits. He easily spouted techno-babble with engineers and scientists. Commenting on training schedule, equipment and technique with the most avid athletes. Debating philosophies and art critiques with academia and artisans alike.

In less than a year, he had revealed old ties with people Asakura did not expect of him - such as a no-nonsense, loyal, strait-laced police officer. Even Asakura cannot imagine anyone trying to corrupt Sanada to the dark side. Sanada was so traditional in lifestyle, family background and mindset, he was antithesis to Atobe.

Then, there was that pesky mosquito of a photographer. First, Atobe had hit him. Then shared a bottle of very expensive champagne with him. Immediately after, Asakura was told to keep Fuji away from Shiroi's sight. Then, when Fuji started stalking Atobe, he had to keep Fuji away from Atobe. Fuji had been playing hide and seek with his men for months. It was unnecessary extra work for Asakura, which irked him more than a real threat. Fuji was worse than a paparazzi stalker. At least those types would get bored and leave to chase the next hot celebrity. On the other hand, since Fuji did not work for any kind of news agency, Asakura need not worry about negative publicity and tabloid gossips about Atobe.

Then, there was the beautiful but eccentric courtesan with multiple personalities that started all these events. A strange man who turned out to be someone Atobe care very deeply about, though wild elephants could not get him to admit it. Even Asakura was surprised by how much Atobe respected this man or how close friends they were. Asakura did not know what to make of him.

Shiroi was harmless and quite likable on his own. Tezuka gave him security nightmares, thinking of Atobe in close proximity to an unpredictable man. A man capable of extreme violence. Yet, also a man of intelligence and iron-will. A potent combination to someone like Atobe. Tezuka's personality traits were like catnip to Atobe.

But Asakura managed to get Sanada to tell him about Tezuka's first appearance in Sanada's house in April. The unedited version, which included how Tezuka subdued Sanada in less than two seconds. The very version he knew Atobe was ignorant of. Sanada was not too keen for Atobe to find out he was bested by a harmless doll half his weight. Tezuka was smarter, stronger and faster than Shiroi's frail physique would suggest. He was also well versed in self-defence, capable of inflicting bodily harm and creating material damage.

The fact that Atobe trusted Tezuka to the extent of locking himself in the safe-room with Tezuka alone was cause for great concern. Had Asakura been present, he would not have allowed it. Atobe would have to fire him before he would allow Atobe alone with Tezuka.

Yet, Asakura could not blame Atobe for his actions. Tezuka, when he was calm and communicative, was a well-read and well-mannered person. He exuded dependability and trustworthiness. That understated charisma, while different from Atobe's large than life personality, was equally powerful. Tezuka gave off an aura of quiet competence. Even Asakura felt drawn to him and wanted to trust him.

But Tezuka was also a man with many deep hidden secrets and unresolved issues. The problem was, all the findings - as much as Asakura understood Dr. Yuriko's explanation - indicated to him that Tezuka was also a very desperate and frustrated young man. All that pent up feelings built up into uncontrolled fear and anger. That made him dangerous in Asakura's eyes. Still, he was thankful that Shiroi was being treated in Kanagawa instead of Tokyo. It meant he only needed to worry about the possibility of Atobe being near Tezuka for a few hours a week instead of every day of the week.

Now, Atobe even had an amateur mad scientist and statistics-spouting journalist in his menagerie of acquaintances. If it weren't such serious business, Asakura would have laughed at Atobe's knack for collecting a zoo's worth of human oddities. Still, a journalist, be it student or working professional, could turn into a threat or a golden opportunity for Atobe's enterprises. He had to tread more carefully in his dealings with Inui than with Fuji.

Asakura sighed. He began to wonder, with Atobe slowly putting Tezuka back together again, if more troublesome persons like those two would start showing up. Who was this Tezuka Kunimitsu that even Atobe was familiar with his friends?

From his profile, Tezuka Kunimitsu appeared a normal middle income kid, with good academic results and one hell of tennis ability. Nothing special beyond tennis that Asakura could see. He wasn't from extremely rich family like Atobe. Or influential lineage like Sanada's. He went to normal school, unlike the other two. Atobe with his private elitist school at Hyoutei and Sanada from a highly competitive and performance-centric school like Rikkai Dai. Tezuka wasn't any kind of genius with IQ of 300. No matter how good his tennis was, surely he was nothing like the current tennis hot shot Echizen Ryoma, whose father was the infamous Echizen Nanjirou.

Tezuka's father was one of the millions of paper pushers and his mother was a home-maker. He was so boringly normal. No significant close relatives. No family history of violence or crime or medical conditions, noble connections or wealth. His grandfather was more interesting. A widower and Judo instructor with Tokyo Metropolitan Police. Still active past retirement age. He knew the type of old school sensei. At least he could see Tezuka's connection to Sanada through their grandfathers.

Asakura sat at his desk and started to review the newly arrived reports. When Atobe offered Asakura a job, he knew it would not be an easy job scope. But it was better than the alternative - abandoned by his superiors when they found out Atobe family was implicated in his investigations, and thrown to the yakuza hyenas who would not let him live with his knowledge. _Live in secret or die for his righteousness_. That was the choice Atobe gave him.

He had no idea it would get this complicated. Most security jobs required keen eyes, fast reaction, snap decisions and a permanent 'blind-eye-deaf-ear' syndrome to the employer's activities. Atobe demanded more. Asakura had to be aware of Atobe's activities and think ahead. He had to anticipate and take initiative to arrange matters without Atobe's directions and to Atobe's advantage.

To Asakura's disadvantage, Atobe also liked to play mind games when he was bored. Asakura, by the nature of his work, was the nearest and most readily available target for Atobe's whims. He had to be on his toes at all times or be subjected to Atobe's barbed mockery and veiled sarcasm for weeks.

Unlike most vainglorious rich and famous employers, Atobe enjoyed being challenged. As long as Asakura gave as good as he got, fighting back with plain stubbornness, straight talking, well-executed arguments and rhetorics. Atobe would not take offence as Asakura's 'insubordination'. It took awhile for Asakura to figured out Atobe's own eccentricities. Despite Atobe's dramatic and narcissistic posturing, Atobe actually preferred people who were honest and stood up for themselves. Brown-nosers annoyed him.

When Asakura was still new, he had easily fallen to agreeing with Atobe to pacify him. Instead of being happy, Atobe became increasingly annoyed and irritable, firing off denigrating sarcastic remarks. When Asakura was provoked to breaking point, he fought back tooth and nail, with none too polite cutting arguments of his own. He was miserable enough that he was willing to be fired for his defiance. But Atobe was suddenly, inexplicably and irrationally happy when he should be angry. Asakura swore he had never met anyone as contrary and uniquely 'special' as Atobe Keigo.

Then again, that was why Atobe paid so much for his services. His new name, his new face and his fabricated background did not come cheap. Atobe's promise to Asakura was also another intangible price, though Asakura thought it was mutually beneficial to both of them. Atobe promised not to have any business dealings that were illegal or with underground organisations. It meant Atobe would not engage in smuggling, unfair trade practices and industrial espionage. In turn, Asakura would have to work five times harder than a normal bodyguard to identify and alert Atobe away from such elements. As long as it did not conflict with Asakura's sense of justice and personal ethics, Asakura was willing to serve him in good faith.

And now, he had work to do. He had to reassessed Inui Sadaharu's real security risk level before Atobe sent for him. He had a few hours at best, an hour at worst if Atobe was feeling impatient.

Inui's home was filled with strange ingredients and chemicals. Bags of Naga Jolokia chilli that Asakura recognised by its short, tapered fruits and bright red wrinkled skin. The ultra spicy burning heat was potent enough to bring tears to his man's eyes the moment the bag was opened. Bright green bitter-gourd stacked knee high. Bottles of black, red, blue, golden and clear vinegar that curls anyone's toes with just a sniff. Dried fish and various seafood were so pungent, the unfortunate victims were banned from returning to the Atobe Office Complex and sent home to bathe and change.

He finally understood what Atobe meant when he said when it came to Inui, the distinction between food and weapon was a non-existent line. He had all ready lost two men for the next few hours without Inui doing anything more than delivering a photograph and loitering around in a coffee shop.

By the time Atobe had finished his scheduled business and decided that he had kept Inui waiting long enough, Asakura had classified Inui as harmless, but potentially troublesome. Inui, like Fuji, had a connection to Tezuka Kunimitsu. They all went to the same middle school. He was beginning to wonder who Tezuka Kunimitsu really was to call such troublesome people as friends. He wouldn't care what kind of company Tezuka Kunimitsu kept, except when the very same company was rapidly turning into Asakura's problem. With that thought in mind, Asakura was not feeling too charitable when he sent his man to escort Inui back to Atobe's office.

"Atobe," smiled Inui eerily.

"State your case," said Atobe without preamble.

"It should be obvious. We want to see Tezuka. And we want to know what you are doing to him?"

"What makes you think I am doing anything to him?"

"At 6:47 pm, I saw you enter Yomogi Institute of Mental Health with Tezuka. You left alone at 9:04 pm. So I assumed Tezuka is still in that institute. What is he doing there? Why didn't you tell Fuji that you've found Tezuka? That Tezuka is with you? I know Fuji had been trying to contact you."

"I don't have to answer any of your questions."

"Atobe, why are you doing this? Why hide Tezuka from us?"

"He doesn't want to see you."

"We would rather hear that from himself, if you don't mind."

"Or what? What's stopping you from walking through the front door?"

"You know as well as I do. The security at the institute compound is 72.3% tighter than a high-tech R&D lab. They even caught Kikumaru and won't let him into the lobby. 84% probability you have giving our names and profiles to the security guards there."

Atobe smirked. "Of course, sending Kikumaru in as delivery man is useless, no matter how harmless and friendly he looked. That's why you are here."

Inui sighed. "We can't get in without your help. So, will you let us see Tezuka?"

"No."

Inui expected as much. "You do know I am expected to produce an article on you. I can insinuate very unpleasant things without resorting to lies and gossip. Things that will take a lot of time and money for you to clean up. You know how the public is with scandals. Guilty till proven innocent. Even then, there will be lingering doubts of your guilt and speculations that you might have resorted to buying off witnesses and hiding evidence."

Asakura loomed ominously behind Inui.

Atobe waved him off casually. "You know better than to threaten Oresama with blackmail."

"I am not blackmailing you, Atobe. I am simply informing you on the possible consequences of how I present certain facts and phrase certain events."

"Statistics is mere numbers that could be manipulated to show what you want it to say. Is that it?"

"That and this ..." Inui took out another photograph. Atobe and Shiroi sat closely next to each other. Shiroi was shirtless, face half hidden by his raised hand that was feeding an oyster to Atobe.

"Ah ... Oresama looked fabulous, as usual." Atobe flicked his hair while admiring his own photo.

Inui looked slightly shaken. "Of - Of course. But imagine if something like this is leaked to the media. It's easy for the general public to jump to conclusions."

"Enjoying a day at the beach is not illegal, the last time I checked."

"No," agreed Inui. "But it's easy to assume you are enjoying more than a purely platonic fun in the sands with a male companion."

"You would do that to Tezuka?"

"It's hard to recognise Tezuka in the picture. Fuji has very good eye for ... ah ... composition. While there are no law against whatever sexual orientation you choose, it would make it 3.42 times harder for you to conduct your daily business. Especially with your wealthier and well-established associates. Those tend to be more traditional and conservative. Your family is quite conservative in some areas too, Atobe. I'm 98.92% certain you will get into considerable and unnecessary difficulty should this fact become known to senior members of your family. A wedding would suddenly become a high priority agenda, for instance."

"It is not something Oresama cannot handle."

"Unfortunately, that is also true. But why go through all that hassle of damage control when you can easily avoid it?"

"Why threaten Oresama when you don't intend to follow through, ahn?"

"I was hoping we could come to an agreement. I am not asking for you to turn Tezuka over to us. I am asking you to let us see Tezuka. To find out how he is. To help him in anyway we can."

"Have you considered your presence would do more harm than good? That your meddling made things worse?" Atobe noted the fleeting twitch on Inui's face. So, the brain of Seigaku was not so brainless after all. Inui had considered the possibility and there was still niggling doubt in his chosen course of actions. He could see clearly the original doubt in Inui sprouted and take root. Then again, it was probably why Inui chose to approach Atobe instead of breaking into the institute by force. He could see Inui having an internal debate with himself, probably reiterating the pros and cons of his chosen path.

After a few moments, Inui's jaw tightened in determination. "You may be right. But it is a risk I am willing to take." In a softer voice, he said, "I have to know if what Fuji said is true ... I have to know what happened to Tezuka. I will take responsibility for the consequences."

Atobe blinked in surprise. He noted the change from 'we' to 'I'. "You know this could destroy your career before it could even start."

"Perhaps."

"And among your friends, you will bear the worst fallout. You wouldn't want to make an enemy of me. I can make your life very miserable. You won't be able to work in any major companies in the world."

"I am prepared to accept that. But I would rather not go that far. So, please, don't make me do this. I really do not wish to imply or tarnish your reputation in any way."

"Then offer me something better than threats. Make yourself useful."

Inui sat straighter and looked Atobe in the eye. "We know Tezuka better than anyone else. We will give you our full co-operation. Whatever you want to know about Tezuka. I have still all my notebooks on Tezuka. Academics, tennis, personality, personal history, family life, last known activities ..."

Atobe looked back steadily. "He is not the person he used to be. He can't be what he once was to all of you. Can you live with that? Are you mature enough? Emotionally and mentally? Can you act calmly, objectively and rationally in front of him? I will not waste my time baby-sitting any of you."

Inui looked confused. Not quite sure what Atobe was hinting at. "Tezuka is Tezuka. He was our captain. He will always be our captain."

"That is the problem with all of you peons." Atobe looked up at Asakura. "Put him in the waiting lounge."

"Atobe!"

"Please come this way, Inui-san," said Asakura firmly, helping Inui out of his seat. Asakura noted that Inui was almost as tall as Atobe. Atobe had deliberately given him a lower chair to sit on to establish his dominance. If Inui had not dressed so nerdy and awkwardly, he could have appeared very imposing. Asakura had not missed Inui's well toned muscles and broad powerful shoulders.

"Sir?"

"I'm Asakura. Take a seat, Inui-san. Master Keigo will give you his decision soon."

Inui slumped against a sofa. He took out a notebook and started flipping it. "Where did I go wrong?" he muttered, adding notes and adjusting figures.

Asakura went back to find Atobe on the phone.

"... You wanted the old friends... There's eight of them. If I allowed one, the rest will simply invite themselves. It's easier to herd them together."

"... I'm not going to manage them. They are your problem. But I will decide when and how and what they do with Tezuka. I don't care what you do with them. Or how you control them. That is your business. Everything they do with Tezuka needs my approval ahead of time."

"... No, I mean it. Or I will bar them completely."

"... See, it's much easier when you agree with me. I'll bring one or two next week."

Atobe smirked like a cat sitting on a barrel of cream.

Asakura wondered if he should be afraid. "You planned the whole thing?"

"I am simply getting exactly what I want with the least effort on my part by letting things run their natural course. With a few nudges in the right direction."

"You ... you ... Arrgh! You've been planning this since Dr. Yuriko said she wanted to speak to his old friends."

Atobe simply gave him a self-satisfied grin.

"You better tell me who else I should know about. I could have fed them to the fishes by now. I ought to strangle you and feed you to sharks!"

"There, there," said Atobe soothingly. "Sit down. Have a nice cup of tea. It's calming and good for your blood pressure." Atobe smiled sweetly as he pushed a porcelain cup towards Asakura. "Then, you can go outside and break the good news to Inui before he bursts a blood vessel."

"You are a devilish, diabolical, Machiavellian, Mephistophelean man!"

"Gracious me," said Atobe in mock amazement. "Such language, man! Who would believe you are thug-worthy muscle brain? It would be a scandal! A fiasco! An embarrassment! I have to transfer you to the secretarial pool immediately."

"I hate you!" growled Asakura.

* * *

**Notes:**

Inui's _Height_: 184cm (at 14)  
_Atobe's Height_: 175cm (at 14)  
Atobe = 185 cm (6'1) (at 24)  
Ootori = 185 cm  
Kabaji = 190 cm

**Responses to Reviewers:**

Sorry it took so long. As apology, I'm posting a looong chapter.

**Aan** : Keigo is sweet, as long as nobody knows about it. :D

**kamu** : Thank you! I'm glad that special connection between Tezuka and Atobe came out well.


	26. Chapter 26

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 26**

It wasn't a complete failure, all things considered. Inui rearranged the stack of envelopes on his study desk.

Yanagi placed a cup of coffee next to the pile and seated himself next to Inui. "Well?"

"Atobe agreed to let us see Tezuka, like you predicted. But there are conditions ... He wants us to sign an agreement. A non-disclosure agreement and a ... 'Atobe is king' kind of agreement."

"Well, that is not surprising. Atobe hasn't changed much since Junior High. But an NDA is unexpectedly extreme."

"You can read the conditions yourself."

"You want me to run this through Yagyuu first? Get a lawyer's perspective before you signed your life away."

Inui shrugged.

"Atobe knew you would sign it anyway," Yanagi answered himself, correctly predicting Inui's state of mind.

They both sipped their drinks. Inui had tall clear mug of purple and yellow slush. He generously offered Yanagi a cup, but Yanagi declined in favour of his tamer and less exciting coffee.

Yanagi remained silent for several minutes while he read through the clauses carefully. The unfamiliar legal terms and phrases curled awkwardly around his tongue.

He remembered his last one-to-one conversation with Sanada. As he had promised Sanada, he did not reveal to Inui that Tezuka was living in Kanagawa. Inui found out himself by tracking Atobe's own movement, from rental cars to monthly expenses to transfer of funds to mysterious destinations. By then, Tezuka had become a resident in the institute, which made it easier for Inui to track the money trails.

Yanagi reread the last few clauses. Inui was right. It was essentially an NDA. Specifically outlined not to reveal anything they learned about Tezuka to the outside world or to discuss about him with external parties. Only Atobe can decide on when, what and how they would see Tezuka. Essentially, they were agreeing to obey Atobe in everything related to Tezuka.

Yanagi frowned. That did not add up. He had expected the arrogance of Atobe. It was all there in what Inui called 'Atobe is King' kind of presumptions. But the way the contract was phrased was severe and extremely protective of Tezuka's privacy. Like Atobe was being overly defensive or protective. It was odd. Atobe was neither a defensive nor protective person, as far as he remembered. His strategy tended to favour offence to defence.

But Atobe's secretive undertone matched Sanada's conversation with him.

"Sadaharu, did Atobe say anything odd to you?"

"He did."

"What?"

"He said ... Tezuka is not the person he used to be. He can't be what he once was." Inui put down his cup. "Renji ... I wanted to believe Atobe was just toying with me. But I fear the situation is worse than I thought."

Yanagi nodded. "Based on what you saw in Kansai, I think you are right. Atobe is warning you, not toying around. You can still back out now, with your memory and regards for Tezuka unaffected."

Inui opened his mouth, but Yanagi got him first. "'_I can't back down now' - i_s that what you were going to say."

Inui nodded. "You know me too well."

"But consider what you have seen for yourself. Tezuka appeared to be happy with Atobe. And Atobe seemed to be taking good care of him."

"But he wasn't acting like Tezuka! He looked like Tezuka, but he wasn't Tezuka. I can't even bring myself to tell the others. Especially the younger ones."

"I think ... perhaps only Fuji and yourself should see Tezuka first."

"Oishi -"

"- is busy with clinical training in University Hospital. You know what housemanship is like for the interns. Cheap labour with the dirtiest jobs, longest hours and graveyard shifts. Wasn't that why you dropped Medicine in the first place?"

"Aa. You are right, as usual. It is best if Fuji and I see Tezuka first. Then, we will decide where to go from there." Inui gave a wry smile at Yanagi. "Besides, if Oishi knows, Kikumaru will automatically know."

"And with news this big, 99% probability everyone within 10 km radius of Kikumaru will know," Yanagi continued without missing a beat.

But try as he might, Inui met another roadblock in the form of Atobe Keigo. Atobe insisted that all eight of them had to agree to his terms before he would allow even one of them near Tezuka. Fuji and Inui had no choice but to let the rest of the team in on their findings. And predictably, one everyone found out, they all insisted on going together. It took some scheduling acrobatics, but with Fuji's help, he managed to find a day that everyone could agree on.

Asakura stared at the list of names Atobe had given him. Then, he looked up at the crowd gathered at the lobby of Yomogi Institute. He kept checking the list and the actual person standing in front of him.

"What?" said Atobe irritably.

"That's Samurai Junior!"

"Echizen? Yeah. You've seen him enough times in US Open and Wimbledon."

"I know," said Asakura with a slight awe in his voice. "Still, it's a little strange to see him outside the court. And ... you know ..."

"Hmph," Atobe snorted elegantly. He knew what Asakura was referring to.

The current World Number One was looking rather pink as his cheeks were pinched by Momoshiro and Kikumaru. One on each side. Inui was proudly presenting a bottle of green and black bubbling concoction in front of the celebrity. And Echizen was actually wincing and backing off, knocking into Kawamura who stood behind him.

"And that's Kaidou Kaoru, who won the Kantou Men Singles last year."

"Oh? You're a tennis fan now?"

"No. It's just ... after following Master Keigo around, tournament after tournaments, even I will pick up some things about tennis."

On the other side of Atobe, Sanada was scowling at the gaggle of ex-Seigaku students. Atobe could hear him muttered "Tarundoru!" at the noise.

Asakura watched Atobe stood by silently. True to his words, he did not lift a finger to control or interact with them, other than to exchange initial greetings. All of them appeared to be familiar with Atobe and Sanada, which they treated with formality but little warmth. Asakura did another double-take as he finally recognised Echizen, Fuji and Kikumaru as their younger self in the Junior Senbatsu picture he saw in the magazine. From what he knew, Oshitari Yuushi was somewhere in Australia. He briefly wondered if he should expect Sengoku and Kirihara to suddenly leap out of the blue.

In a few minutes, the therapist, Oshitari Yuriko made her appearance. She quickly gathered the newcomers and conducted them to a meeting room for a briefing.

Asakura waited outside. After ten minutes, Echizen Ryoma came out yawning widely. He headed straight for the vending machine, got himself a can of Ponta and parked himself on the wall next to Asakura. Asakura noticed the dark smudges under his eyes. He must have just flown in from overseas.

"You've been staring at me all morning. You have something to say to me?" Echizen said, his tone bordering on rudeness.

"Why are you here?" asked Asakura curiously.

"Che! Inui-senpai threatened to send nutritional training menu suggestions to my coaches," muttered Echizen sullenly.

"But why? What is Shiroi to you?"

"Who is Shiroi? I'm only here because Fuji-senpai said Tezuka-buchou is here. And I have unfinished business with buchou."

"Tezuka-buchou ..." _Captain_. Tennis captain, like Atobe. Having met some of Atobe's old tennis friends from Hyotei, he could guess at the bonds that held Echizen to Tezuka. Even after all these years, some of his ex-Hyotei friends still called Atobe '_Atobe-buchou_'. "Kaidou-san too?"

"Yeah. Old team mates. Kaidou-senpai was Tezuka-buchou's successor."

"What unfinished business ...?"

Echizen blinked, then reddened. "Payback. He promised to meet me. At the top. Wimbledon, Rolland Garros, US Open, Australia Open, Japan Open ... I even played every tournament in Germany for a year. He wasn't there. I have to play him before he gets too old and slow. Gotta show him I got his Zero-shiki perfected. And I think he's crazy. Pulling the kind of training required to make Zero-shiki undetectable at fourteen. Took me three years to get it right."

"Wait! Zero-shiki was Tezuka-san's? ... Then, the one they called Tezuka Phantom?"

"His. Though, buchou did not actually called it that. Inui-senpai named it. I think buchou called it anti-Zone."

"At fourteen?"

"So? He was all ready familiar with Tezuka Zone. It's just one more step to reach Phantom. You should have seen how he made Sanada sweat over that. Even Yukimura can't ignore that kind of ball." Echizen grinned mischievously. "The best part was, Tezuka-buchou made both the Zone and the Phantom completely indistinguishable. He could it it from any angle with either backhand or forehand." Echizen looked around, peering into the glass doors along the corridor. "So, where is buchou hiding anyway?"

"You will see him, when I say you can." Atobe stepped out and closed the door behind him.

"Monkey King. Where are you hiding him?"

"With that kind of attitude, you will never find out."

Echizen narrowed his eyes. "How long are they going to be in there?"

"At the rate that woman is going ... probably an hour or so."

"Che. Boring." Echizen dropped his empty can noisily into the recycle bin. Then, he whipped around, brandishing his tennis racquet. "Let's play a set," he challenged Atobe. "You're getting old now. So, I'll go easy on you."

"Ahn? Do you really want to embarrass yourself that badly?"

"Why don't you prove that on the court?"

"Master Keigo," Asakura stirred uneasily.

Atobe waved him off. "Go get my gear. Looks like the pup still needs a lesson or two."

After an hour, Sanada and the rest of Tezuka's old friends found a large crowd around the outdoor tennis court. Both Atobe and Echizen were sprawled on the clay court.

"Nyaa! They've finally gone and killed each other."

"Eiji!" said a scandalised Oishi.

Momoshiro went to Echizen's side. "He's sleeping." He poked Echizen in the ribs. "Oi, Echizen! Get up!"

"Let's get him to the bench," said Kawamura, picking up Echizen's slight frame in his arms.

On the other side of the court, Sanada and Asakura were supporting Atobe to the nearest shade.

Inui adjusted his glasses. "What's the score?" he asked the bystanders.

It broke the spell on the audience. Immediately, everyone began talking at once.

"It was amazing!"

"Echizen Ryoma played exhibition match. Wait till I tell Aniki! He would be so jealous."

"It's unbelieveable. Atobe-sama could play as well as a Pro! Even against the number one ranked."

"Did you see that last rally?"

"They didn't drop the ball for 15 minutes!"

"I lost count of the rally at 100."

Seeing his question ignored, Inui quietly went to the security office and helped himself to the security tapes, using Atobe's name as authorisation. "Echizen 7-6," he muttered, scribbling into his notebook. "Curious ..."

"What's curious, Inui?" Fuji bumped his shoulder against Inui.

"Echizen. I expected better performance."

Shiroi swung his arm slowly, following the full range of motion prescribed by the physiotherapist. At two thirds of the way, his upper arm hurt. He clutched the brace-bar grimly while trying to complete the motion.

The physiotherapist held his left elbow, stopping him in mid-motion. His voice cannot be heard, but his words were easy enough to lip read. '_Slow down. Don't force it.'_

"Why are we standing out here? Let's go inside." Kikumaru hopped excitedly.

All of them were gathered in the corridor, looking into the gym. Asakura was standing in front of the door, blocking anyone from the gym. One frown from him was enough to get Kikumaru scooting back.

"You wanted to see Tezuka. Now, you've seen him," said Atobe. "He doesn't want to see you, and I'm interpreting his request rather loosely here. So, he is not going to see you."

"You said he did not remember us," rasped Kaidou. "How can he not want to see us when he can't remember us?"

"Hey, Kaidou actually makes sense, for a change," said Momoshiro.

"The person you are seeing in that room has been told about you," said Yuriko. "And at the moment, he chooses not to meet you. I hoped he would change his mind soon. In the mean time, I hoped you can help him recover his past memory."

"I think I speak for all of us," said Fuji, "when I say that we will do whatever we can."

It was late afternoon when the gathering dispersed. But Fuji and Inui flanked Echizen before he had a chance to escape to the taxi.

"So, did you have fun playing tennis with Atobe?" asked Fuji, full of unspoken insinuations.

"It was barely bearable."

"You played terribly," Inui contradicted.

"I was just going easy on Atobe."

"I doubt it," said Atobe as he invited himself into the conversation.

"Ceh."

"So, what's wrong?" asked Fuji, giving Echizen a few helpful prods with his finger.

"It's not a problem."

"Echizen can't open the doors of Muuga." Atobe leaned back lazily, looking smug.

"Shut up. Like I said, it's not a problem."

Inui frowned. "Atobe may be right," he said to Fuji. "I have not seen Echizen played in any of the States for a long time.

"It's not worth it," muttered Echizen irritably. "There isn't anyone good enough to handle that level of tennis. Maybe my idiot oyaji was right about retiring early. It's boring at the top."

* * *

**Notes:**  
Japan Medicine - 6 year course. 4 years coursework study, 2 years clinical training in University Hospital.  
High School - 3 years Junior, 3 years Senior = 18 years old.  
University - Age 19 at 1st Year.  
Oishi - Age 24 at 6th Year (final year for Medicine).  
Inui - Age 22 at 4th Year (Graduate), Age 24 at 2nd Year (Post-grad)

**Responses to Reviewers:**

This has taken quite a long time in writing. Work and personal life has been hectic lately. Sorry for such a long gap. I'm not to happy with this chapter. Mainly because I find parts of it boring.. But at least, Seigaku are now on board. This means it's time to move to next stage.

**Aan**: Happy birthday! And yes, Ryoma finally showed up along with the whole circus. Well, last chapter covered Asakura's view about Tezuka (all three of him) as you have mentioned in one of your past reviews.

**kamu**: Atobe was really fun to write. You find Inui creepy? Hehe! I think that's his sneakiness showing. But he was fun to play with. Hope you like the short story.

**Geecee** : Welcome back! I look forward to your reviews.

*shameless plug* For those of you who don't read reviews, I have a one-shot Tezuka-Oishi fic "_Hand and Stone, Heart and Soul"_ at  
www. fanfiction. net/s/7186826/7/Friendship_Has_No_Limit (Chapter 7).  
There are other Tezuka-centric fics in there too. So, please, go read them.


	27. Chapter 27

**Splintered Mirror  
Chapter 27**

In the weeks that followed, Oishi, Fuji and Inui became regular visitors. Echizen and Kaidou had flown off to Europe for their own ATP World Tours after extracting promises from Inui to keep them updated.  
**  
**Atobe and Yuriko carefully kept _Tezuka Kunimitsu_'s real diagnoses from them. Yuriko had brought up issues of _Tezuka'_s privacy and confidentiality when Atobe arranged for their first visit. Shiroi, speaking on Tezuka's behalf, had been adamant on not revealing anything of himself to the newcomers. So, based on what Fuji and Inui had found out for themselves, they decided to let the Seigaku students continue to believe that _Tezuka _was suffering from amnesia.

In an effort to help _Tezuka _recovered his memory, Oishi asked Fuji to find a particular book for him. Fuji brought a hard cover photography book on their next visit. Yuriko allowed the book to be placed in the saferoom, piled together with other books that Yuriko had tried to interest Kunimitsu with mixed successes. The book elicited the most obvious response. As usual, Shiroi was the main persona when he was put into the room. After noticing the book, his disinterest turned into sharp attention. But he stilled and remained so for a long time, Fuji thought _Tezuka _looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

It was slow, and tentative, but Atobe knew it wasn't Shiroi anymore. It wasn't the second alter, Tezuka, either. The third alter tentatively pulled the book into his lap and studied it page by page hungrily. When he finished, he flipped back to one particular page. He gently traced the sharp outline of Matterhorn mountain. He frowned in great concentration, as if reaching for something elusive. Then, he hugged the page to him and breathed a soft, broken 'Otousan'.

Immediately, Tezuka emerged. He tore the expensive book into small pieces and threw scrunched up pieces at the mirror. Then, in a threatening voice, told them to leave Kunimitsu alone. Not that anyone in the other room could hear him through the sound-proofed walls. After that display, Shiroi returned and became remorseful and upset over Tezuka's wanton destruction. Again, Atobe was required to calm him down.

Storm over, everyone turned to stare at each other.

"Why that book?" Inui asked Fuji.

"It's not a particular book, I think." Fuji said. "There were eight books that fit Oishi's criteria. I only picked the one with the nicest pictures."

"Fuji is right. It wasn't the book, but the contents," said Oishi. "Tezuka's father used to take him mountain climbing. He was saving up to buy a book on famous mountains. Mountains he hoped to climb someday with his father. In particular, one that had Matterhorn in it. "

"What about Matterhorn? Why was it so important? Other than being almost as photogenic as Mount Fuji ..." asked Fuji. He smoothed the crumpled pieces absently in his hand. He had spent a long time carefully checking each candidate book for the mountain Oishi had asked for. The photographer in him winced at the rough treatment of a fellow photographer's beautiful work.

"That was special. He climbed it when he was ten. From what he told me, it was a long and demanding climb. It was quite an accomplishment at his age. He remembered that trip most fondly. I think it was reward for winning a tennis tournament." Oishi gave them a wry smile. "You know how Tezuka is. It was a matter of pride for him to reach certain goals he had set for himself."

"Does Tezuka talked to you about his personal life often?" asked Yuriko. Despite Inui's seemingly endless data, this was the most intimate account of Tezuka that Yuriko had heard from his old friends.

"N-no. Tezuka is a very private person. He doesn't like idle small talk or anything too personal. It was just that one time I visited his home when we were in Third Year. He had a Matterhorn poster in his room. And a special glass case with fishing equipment. We ... um ... we just talked a little about hobbies. I told him about my tropical aquarium and he showed me the koi fish in his garden. There must be over 20 fishes in there and he had a name for each of them."

"Oh?" Inui whipped out his notebook and started scribbling. "I assumed the fish pond was his grandfather's hobby. This changes ... hmm ..." Inui mumbled to himself. "Now, Oishi, what are the names he gave them?"

"Names?"

"His fishes."

Oishi blushed. "Inui!"

"Interesting," observed Inui. "Come now, Oishi. It could be important. Just tell us what you remembered."

"But they were all foreign names! Like Carella, Eileen, Nellie, Honey, Cotton ..."

"Ohohoho! Tezuka ... how surprising! I never see him as the type that likes foreign girls."

Fuji laughed. "Sorry, Inui. It's just like Tezuka ... they were all characters from Tezuka's favourite author."

"Good work, Oishi-san. Thank you." Yuriko brought them back to their original topic.

"D-do you think it helped, sensei? It made Tezuka upset. I'm sorry. I thought he would be happy to have it."

Yuriko smiled reassuringly at the young man. "It's all right, Oishi-san. It is not unexpected. The strongest memories are also memories that has very strong emotional associations. If I asked you to remember something that made you very happy or angry or sad or frightened, you can easily call up several such moments. But if I asked you to remember your bus ride three weeks ago, it is hard to recall. You would probably have forgotten. It is because it has no emotional or personal significance."

"Ah. I wished we did not have to upset him like that."

Yuriko gave him a rueful smile. "Don't feel bad, Oishi-san. You did well. That is an expected reaction when we evoke strong memories and emotions. The emotional response is stronger than normal."

Unlike Inui, who was more than happy to rattle off his knowledge of Tezuka Kunimitsu, Oishi had mostly kept to himself. Yuriko had only the vaguest idea as to his relationship to Tezuka. When Inui had told her that Oishi was vice-captain to Tezuka, she had expected him to take charge of the group. But Oishi seemed withdrawn and shell-shocked, letting Fuji and Inui represent the team as a whole.

She did not miss the side glances that the others threw him though, whenever a suggestion or decision was made. As if they were asking if it was all right with him. She suspected he had more veto power than he realised, even if he appeared the least assertive of the group.

He usually followed Inui for a visit. To her eyes, he always appeared dazed and exhausted with dark shadows under his eyes. No surprises there, given that he was a medical intern working on long shifts. He was shy and a little flustered when she spoke to him. But when left on his own, she had noticed he acted like a silent observer and an attentive listener. If he had not chosen Medicine, she thought he would have done well in Psychology.

She saw them to the door, making a note to herself not to underestimate Oishi again.

When Atobe and Sanada returned from Shiroi's room, Yuriko discussed her theory with them. "Well, Oishi-san has brought out 'Kunimitsu' again. And this the first time any of the three alters had shown any young childhood memory. Kunimitsu is the most likely core personality. The other two were alters."

She pause for a moment, tapping her pen on her writing pad thoughtfully. "It is usually the case with trauma patients when the traumatic stress overwhelmed their ability to cope. Usually, it appears in cases of violence and emotional distress. The other alters were created to protect the core identity. Both Tezuka and Shiroi were there to protect Kunimitsu and to cope with the outside world. Tezuka, to fight back and do all the bad things he would not do ordinarily. Shiroi to compromise and bear with situations they could not control or change. Shiroi is also the 'sacrificial lamb'. Kunimitsu is the innocence and ideals that remained inviolate. The _baby _they were trying to _save_."

She sighed. "What could have caused his personality to splinter like that? Even a bad accident, followed by grief and shock should not have done this." She sighed. "We will try to draw Kunimitsu out again and get him to stay longer. If we can stabilise him without evoking Tezuka, we might be able to reintegrate his personality. Right now, Shiroi is the front, simply because Shiroi is the most stable persona capable of dealing with the external reality. The key is to make Kunimitsu feel safe enough and stable enough to emerge, until he becomes the main persona. And to have Tezuka stop fighting me."

Yuriko looked up at Atobe appraisingly.

"Finally realised you can't do this without me?" he smirked.

"As much as I hate to admit it, Tezuka had been dodging and blocking all my efforts to reach him and Kunimitsu. You are the only one he seemed willing to talk to. Do you think you can persuade him to talk to me this time before he shut you out?"

Atobe narrowed his eyes, his lips pressed thin in displeasure. "Are you saying I can't do it, woman?"

"No, I wouldn't say that, Atobe-san. It's just ... you haven't done it ..."

"Hmph!" Atobe crossed his arm, unimpressed. "You're the shrink. That is your job."

"Ah, but Atobe-san ... I am sure you are just as eager to prove to me that you can do a better job than me."

"Of course I will do it better than you. Make no mistake about that."

"Why, thank you, Atobe-san. Do you need help to draw Tezuka out via Kunimitsu?"

Atobe looked down his nose at the lady. "Don't make the mistake of lumping me with the likes of you. I don't need your cheap tricks."

"Atobe-san. Please be gentle with our patient."

"Are you telling me what to do?" He glowered at her.

"Oh, no. Wouldn't dream of it." She smiled sweetly as he made an about turn and stalked his way out of her office.

Sanada frowned but did not follow. "That was rude."

"It's all right, Sanada-san. That young lion has a lot of pride."

"It was uncalled for."

"Well, it was my fault," she said serenely. "I did provoke him. But Sanada-san, he is still going to try to reach Tezuka and turn him around."

"What do you mean _try_? Now that you provoked him, he is going to do it! Even if it takes him a hundred years."

"I am sure he won't need that long," murmured Yuriko.

* * *

It was dark and cold in Tezuka's little corner. A dull emptiness gnawed at him. It was a familiar ache. One he had grown accustomed to and find strangely comforting by its familiarity and predictability. He wrapped his arms around his shins and wedged himself tightly into the little niche in the narrow cave. It was his own little world and it was the one place he could be alone.

It was the one place he could feel at ease. Or more accurately, it was the one place he felt the least discomfort. The walls he built around himself were thick and forbidding. He built it layer by layer, like an oyster, making it taller and thicker over time. Till very little could penetrate it.

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. But he was asleep. It was a futile exercise. But old habits were hard to kick. He had taken the unforgettable into himself. It was inevitable that all his attempts to forget were doomed to failure. But deep in his little private corner, he could pretend to forget. If no one could see him or his wounds, he could pretend they did not exist.

He was always cold and he was always hungry. He was used to that. He no longer think it was unusual. Warmth and charity frightened him. It made the cold and hunger harder to bear.

He was always in pain. He should have gotten used to that too. But somehow, he did not. He was afraid of getting used to pain. If his pain no longer hurt him, how will he do penance?

He picked up a golden globe. It was his treasure. He could not resist stroking the warm translucent surface. Even when it pierced his light-sensitive eyes with its soft glow. Even when it burned his frozen fingers with its heat. Like a loose tooth, he could not resist touching and probing at the site of his pain.

Everyone outside wanted his treasure. Atobe. That woman who talked too much. He hugged it close to him. Cradling it between his heart and his knees. He guarded it jealously. He did not want to let go. It was his treasure. It was pure and beautiful. It was the only beautiful thing he had left. He would protect it from the outsiders. He did not them to touch his treasure. They would taint it. Change it. Dirty it. Break it. Even he dared not touch it. If he touched the treasure, he would mar him with his darkness. So, he hid it in a ball of clear diamond.

He pressed his forehead against the treasure and looked deep into its depth. The light pierced his eyes like lances. He squinted his watering eyes till he could see a small figure inside it. It was sleeping peacefully. It was beautiful. It was a young man with soft feathery brown hair and warm brown eyes. _Kunimitsu. _He nodded to himself and put it back into its hiding place.

He leaned back and reinforced the walls. It was harder to keep Kunimitsu contained now. There were too many reminders and attractants that called him out. Especially the newcomers. He remembered the ex-Seigaku students. Not as much as Kunimitsu, but he remembered enough. He knew Kunimitsu had a strong bond to them. He could not allow them near. They could shatter every safeguard he had built around Kunimitsu.

He remembered Kaidou quietly waiting for him after school two weeks after the Third Years retired from all extra-curricular activities. It was the Third Year's exam study week. Kaidou shyly asking if it was all right to talk while he walked Tezuka home. Kaidou was always thoughtful, in his quiet way. He knew Kaidou did not want to impose on Tezuka's study time at school or in his home.

He steered them to a nearby park bench. He knew it would take more than half-hour to have the productive kind of 'talk' he had anticipated. It took ten crazed days before Kaidou came to him. Ikeda, the newly minted Student Council President, lasted three event planning meetings before he ambushed Tezuka, begging Tezuka to stay another year and never leave. Instead, Tezuka gave him pointers on how to deal with Izumi-sensei's over-ambitious event ideas, who to talk to when expenses escalated beyond budget, how to reign in the stubborn and opinionated class representatives, how to channel the over-enthusiastic members productively ... and most importantly, how not to try do everything himself.

Not that he did not prepare each of his successors properly before handing them the reins. He knew each person had their own leadership style and weaknesses. Those problem areas needed to be 'discovered' by each individual before they were ready to learn and understand. Tezuka had similar problems himself, when he was new to his positions. But he had benefited from Yamato's extra guidance before he was thrown into the deep end.

The transition of power had been rough and rocky from Yamato to the new captain, Maruyama. It was exacerbated by Yamato's deviation from tradition by appointing Tezuka as vice-captain. It paid off in Tezuka's time. The transition from Maruyama to Tezuka was much smoother, almost invisible. Mainly because Tezuka was all ready familiar with the running of the Tennis Club. And everyone was used to Tezuka being in-charge.

Tezuka had listened intently as Kaidou's haltingly described the problems. He knew Kaidou was asking him for advice, for solutions. He bit his tongue and did not answer. He asked Kaidou several questions, each designed to make him think and open his mind to different perspectives. Gently, he nudged Kaidou to his find own answers. Among the Second Year members, Kaidou was the most like him in temperament. He appeared aloof and intimidating, especially to the First Year students. It could work for or against him. If that intimidation turned to fear, Kaidou's term would become a reign of terror and de-motivation. Tezuka knew it would do more harm than good, especially to Kaidou.

But, at that point in time, while Kaidou and the club were still adjusting to each other, it could work to his advantage. That distance gave Kaidou aura of authority and respect. He did not need to work hard at enforcing discipline. One word or a look could get the members moving. Unlike Momoshiro, who would need 5 minutes of cajoling. By playing on both their strengths and natural inclinations, they would make a great partnership.

Kaidou, despite his prickly exterior, was a sensitive and considerate person. So much so, he would everything he can for anyone who asked. Something Tezuka was grateful none of his juniors had figured out yet. As captain, Kaidou would not have time to fix every petty and trivial problem. That was where Momoshiro became invaluable to Kaidou, as Oishi was to Tezuka. If it wasn't important enough to 'brave Tezuka's wrath', people would rather go to Oishi. Oishi would settle the small issues, leaving Tezuka to deal with larger issues and time to drive the team forward. Anyone too shy or distraught to talk to Tezuka would get some comfort and reassurance from Oishi. By the time Tezuka stepped in, he was dealing with calmer heads who were ready to listen, instead of awkwardly soothing emotional and distraught hearts.

When Tezuka discreetly checked their progress a week later, Kaidou and Momoshiro had worked out a solution for themselves. He wasn't discreet enough to evade Ryuuzaki-sensei's notice. She caught him spying on their practice from the second floor classroom. She patted his back and told him to stop being a mother hen. She would look out for them, just as she had for all the students that had come before, including Tezuka himself. Then, she promptly chased Tezuka back to his class.

Tezuka stirred. It would not do to reminiscence too much. Kunimitsu could pick up his moods and memories. Just like he could pick up Shiroi's moods and memories. The problem was keeping them out. Shiroi's thoughts and memories made him angry, so he did not like to receive them. He reinforced the isolation walls around him. In the past, Shiroi tried to keep Tezuka out too, building the wall from his side. Now, with Atobe, he was tearing the wall down. Making it thinner and thinner. Until only Tezuka's side remained.

He could feel it even then, Shiroi tapping tentatively from his side. Trying to reach Tezuka again. Atobe's presence filled Shiroi's side of the world. He drew the night and the frost about him. Not tonight. He would not talk to Atobe tonight.

* * *

**Response to Reviewers:**

**Aan**: Ahaha … Ryoma is in denial. Hoped you find surprises in this chapter.

**Kamu**: Inui watched the match and got the score from the tapes. "I have not seen the manga but I will " - Wow! That's really kind of you. I will try my best to keep everything realistic and everyone in-character. Thanks for heads-up on Tezuka's new singles.

**Note:**  
ATP World Tours (Europe):**  
**Mutua Madrid Open, **Spain** - Early May  
Internazionali BNL d'Italia, **Italy** - Early May  
Open de Nice Côte d'Azur, **France** - Mid May  
Power Horse World Team Cup Düsseldorf, **Germany** - Mid May  
Gerry Weber Open, **Germany**- Early June


	28. Chapter 28

**Splintered Mirror  
Chapter 28**

Shiroi rubbed icy cold black stone. Tezuka was somewhere on the other side. He dug his bare toes into the verdant grass on his side. Little white and pink flowers tickled his ankle. The sun was comfortably warm and bright against his skin.

Compared to the forbidding and ominous mountain, the grass was cool and soft. Inviting him to lie down in it. It sapped his resolve to do the unpleasant task of going into that black mountain.

He sat down on the grass. Then, because he did not like the black mountain, laid down on the grass till it was out of his eye sight. He rolled around, luxuriating in the clean fresh smell of crushed grass. He nudged a white flower with his nose, inhaling the sweet smell of peach blossoms.

He knew the grass and the flowers were not real. They were figments of his imagination. Keigo-sama said the inner landscape was merely his mind trying to give shape to the chaos and intangible ideas in his head by giving them physical-looking aspects.

Still, he liked his willows with multi-coloured silk leaves and impossibly green grass with thin stalks of peach blossoms. Tezuka once told him peach blossoms grow on trees, not grass. But Shiroi liked them low on the ground where he could see the pretty flowers, smell the sweet fragrance and touch the soft luxurious petals. He tickled the yellow stamens with his finger, wrinkling his nose as the dislodged pollens flew into his face.

_TEZUKA! Get out here. Come on. Stop being so stubborn. Are you scared to face me?_ Keigo-sama's voice boomed through Shiroi's world.  
_  
_Shiroi sat up immediately. He had almost forgotten he promised Keigo-sama do to something important.

Shiroi stood before the cold black stone again. '_This is just an illusion,_' he told himself. He pressed both palms against the stone. It was so cold it burned him. '_This is not real,_' he said firmly. '_There is no stone._' He pressed harder and went through the stone mountain like it was made of jelly.

"Keigo-sama is right," breathed Shiroi. His voice echoed in the shadow world like he was in a long tunnel. He was both elated and apprehensive. Keigo-sama was right. Shiroi could control everything in his own internal world if he wanted to. He made his way gingerly. Even though Keigo-sama had proved that Shiroi can control part of Tezuka's domain, Tezuka still frightened him.

He walked as quietly as possible. He tried to feel his way around. Feel for something that did not belong there. He groped around the oppressive atmosphere. He wanted to turn on the light, bring out the sun. But Shiroi thought it best not do too much changes to Tezuka's domain.

Suddenly, he felt it. Something softly tugging him, pulling him in like moth to a flame. It was so comforting and warm, he wanted to cry. He reeled back, frightened by the unfamiliar feeling. Was that _love_? Was that what it felt like to be loved? Was that the fabled impossible unimaginable unattainable feeling? He fought against its call, pressing himself again the wall.

He shook and shivered against the call. Keigo-sama did not say it would be this scary. He knew Tezuka's wrath was scary. But this was a different kind of scary. It made him want, yearn for something. He felt like he had been asleep all his life. He felt like he was missing something important and it was waiting for him.

Shiroi did not allow himself to want anything. Not for himself. It was not his place to yearn for anything. A mere doll like himself should never want or ask for anything. The call made him feel like he wanted something. That he had that something before and had lost it. That it belonged to him and was his alone. That it was his birthright and his legacy. The intensity of the feeling hurt him deep and sharp. He wept and he did not understand why. He curled up into himself. Alone, confused and frightened.

_Tezuka! Here boy ... Good boy ... Come to ore-sama ..._Keigo-sama's voice penetrated even Tezuka's world.

"DON'T INSULT ME!" Tezuka's defiant voice boomed back.

Shiroi knew Keigo-sama could not hear him. But both their voices woke him up from his fright. He had a job to do. He promised Keigo-sama he would try his best. He picked himself up and moved forward again.

_Here, Tezuka. Come boy. Good boy... _After a slight pause, which Shiroi could imagine Keigo-sama grinning mischievously - _Sit boy. Roll over. Play dead. Shake hand. Good boy._

"I AM NOT A DAMNED DOG!" Tezuka's presence filled Shiroi's senses till he was choking.

Then, as sudden as he dominated the darkness, he disappeared. All was quiet again.

Shiroi closed his ears with his hands. He had to follow the siren's call without being overwhelmed by it again. He went on and on and on into the maze. Till he tripped and saw a plum blossom on the ground in front of him. The same flower he had dropped a lifetime ago when Tezuka's oppressive aura frightened him. He had been going in circles. He left the flower lying on the ground and moved on.

Another lifetime passed and again, he came to the lone flower. He beat the wall in frustration. It was somewhere in there. If only he could go directly to it, rather than follow the confusing maze. He looked at his bruised hand. Oh! He did walk through wall to enter Tezuka's domain. He pressed his hand against the wall and willed it to become not-solid. Over and over, he passed deep into the heart of the mountain. A bright golden light flared ahead of him. He stumbled after it like a man starved for water.

Tezuka emerged suddenly, without warning. From prone position, he sat up with one fist aimed towards Atobe. Only to be deflected by Asakura before it reached Atobe's throat.

Atobe smirked. He was stroking a fuzzy coated Norfolk terrier pup on his lap. "Good morning, Tezuka!" he greeted cheerily. "Do you like my new puppy? He is only 12 weeks old. Do you think his fur coat matches the exact shade of your hair? Oh, his name is Tezuka, by the way." At the sound of his name, the pup wagged his tail and nosed Atobe's palm.

Tezuka glared at the unbearably cute toy dog. It was tiny enough to sit on Atobe's palm. "Don't name your animals after me."

Atobe grinned with all his perfectly white and straight teeth showing. "I think it suits him perfectly." He turned to the puppy and tickled its chin. The pup closed its eyes in utter ecstasy. "You like your new name, don't you? Yes, you do, Tezu-boo-boo."

Tezuka shuddered at the atrocious pet name. "Call it something else."

"Why? I like Tezu-boo-boo. He is my dog. I can call him whatever I want."

"You can't use my name."

"I can too."

"Cannot!"

"Can too."

"Go away."

"I feel an inspiration coming ... Ah! I think I shall acquire a blue macaw and call it Tezzie." Atobe scratched behind an ear thoughtfully. "Yes ... I think I shall teach it to say 'Ich bin der König Tezuka. Ore-sama no bigini yoina!'."

Tezuka beaned Atobe with a pillow, right dead centre of his forehead.

Atobe looked at Asakura accusingly.

"What?" said Asakura from his comfortable position propping up the wall. "You need protection from a pillow?" He shook his head at the antics of the two boys in front of him. It was amazing how quickly Atobe descended into childishness around Tezuka.

Atobe sniffed discontentedly. "I think I want a hippo now. A pygmy hippo called 'Tezu-poppo'. Asakura, you can muck his stall."

"Stop it!" yelled Tezuka.

"Hmm ... The sheik is about to gift me a Miniature Arabian horse. I think I shall call it 'Zukabot'. Maybe it will keep his hopes up that one day, he will transform into a full real Arabian. Just so he won't have inferiority complex standing next to my beautiful 15-hands Elizabeth."

"What do you want?" said Tezuka sullenly. He did not want to hear any more of his namesakes populating Atobe's private zoo. He was being blackmailed and he knew it.

"Seven hours a week with the psychotherapist and free access to Kunimitsu."

"No! Shiroi is all ready spending all day with her."

"It's different. It's Shiroi and not you. I want you, personally, spend seven hours a week with her."

Tezuka just looked stubbornly silent.

"Think they'll let me import a koala into Japan, Asakura? I think big Tezuka needs hugs from small huggable furry koala called little 'Huggy-Tezzy'."

Tezuka shuddered. "One hour."

Atobe grinned wider than the Cheshire cat. Now that Tezuka started bargaining, he knew that he had him. "Six hours."

"Two."

"Five and half."

"Two and half."

"Copy cat. Five and one-quarter."

"Two and one-quarter."

"Hey! You can't reverse."

"Says who?"

"Says the law of bargaining."

"Oh? So we are haggling like fishwives now?"

"Who are you calling fishwife?"

"You!"

"Six and a koala. I resent being called fishwife!"

"Who is copycat now? Two, no koala!"

"All right. Looks like I have to be the _mature gentleman_here. Four hours, and free access to Kunimitsu."

"Three and you get rid of the pooch. And no Kunimitsu."

Atobe gave him a sharp look. "Kunimitsu or Tezu-booboo."

"No!"

"Fine! Three hours. Tezu-boogie-woogie stays. You can start your first hour with the therapist tomorrow. Have fun!"

Tezuka returned to find his secret treasure gone. It took no guesses to know who had taken it.

Tezuka invaded Shiroi's domain like a black storm. Darkness wrapped around him like a cloak. Shiroi built up barrier after barrier. Tezuka tore through them with barely a second thought.

"Traitor! Where have you taken him? What have you done? Give him back!"

Shiroi squeaked as Tezuka caught him and pinned him to the ground.

"Give him back!"

"N-no." Shiroi quivered in Tezuka's clutches.

Tezuka shook him roughly. "Atobe put you up to this," he said accusingly. "Why?"

Shiroi remembered the shining bauble. How wondrous it felt in his hands. He clenched his fists dredging up every last ounce of courage to stand up to Tezuka. "Keigo-sama is trying to help us. All of us. He is making everything better. B-but you are not helping. D-don't you see? Your selfishness is holding us back. You- you only think of yourself." He pulled weakly against Tezuka's bruising grip. "P-please. I-I just want us to be happy. Please, can't we share?"

"You spineless little snake!" cried Tezuka angrily. He buried Shiroi's writhing form under a mountain of rock. Then, he left the devastation behind without a backward glance.

"You cheated!"

"Cheat? I don't cheat." Atobe was not surprised to see Tezuka back so soon. Fortunately, Asakura was waiting for him, holding him back as soon as he re-emerged. Even so, Tezuka managed grab a fistful of Atobe's shirt, tearing the breast pocket clean off.

"It is not fair."

"Ah. Fair ... Fair is another thing entirely. No, it is not fair. I don't play fair. You should know that by now. I play to win. You want me to win too. Yes, you do. The sooner you accept that, the faster we can leave this farce behind."

"No! You promised. You lie."

"You know I don't lie." Atobe said mildly. "I promise I will do what is best for you. All of you. The whole you."

"You will hurt them."

"Me? I am not hurting anyone, Tezuka. You are. Come. It is time to stop punishing yourself. You want me to win. You want what I want. So stop all your nonsense and work with me."

Tezuka clenched his fist. He was shaking with suppressed emotions, stopping himself from doing considerable violence on Atobe.

_'Thank god he is Tezuka. If he were any other guy, I could be sporting a black eye and broken nose by now,_' thought Atobe wryly.

Tezuka was still Tezuka in some ways. He still disliked mincing words. Rationale and logic and sense of fairness worked better with him. Straight, blunt and to the point. That was how Tezuka communicated. None of that rabble-rousing emotional speeches that were utterly devoid of content and sound reasoning.

"Look," Atobe continued. "It would have been easier if you had given in to my request to let Kunimitsu have equal access to the outside world. You can ... oh ... time-share. Take turns. It must be dull living in your head all the time."

Tezuka was silent.

Atobe sighed. He switched angle. "Is it fair to hold Kunimitsu in prison? You put him in a cage. He escapes; you overwhelm him; and stuff him back into his little box. Is that fair, Tezuka?"

"Have to protect him," Tezuka muttered sullenly. "He needs sleep."

"Stop being a control freak. It is time he decides for himself if he still needs sleep or it is time for him to wake up. You ... you look like you need sleep more than anyone. You look terrible."

Tezuka swallowed. The adam's apple bobbed in the graceful arc of his neck. On Shiroi, it looked sexy. On Tezuka, it looked bitterly painful. "You don't understand ..." he said softly.

Atobe was mindful of Yuriko's warning not to touch Tezuka. But he leaned forward anyway.

Asakura was immediately on alert. His eyes narrowed, warning Atobe to back away and maintain the one metre personal space between them.

Atobe pursed his lips and moved closer. He would bet his life Tezuka would not kill him. He _was_betting his life Tezuka would not kill him before Asakura could save him. He wrapped his left hand around Tezuka's right wrist. No harm taking some precaution. He did abhor involuntary bruising. When Tezuka did not protest or fight him, he moved closer. With his right hand, he delicately lifted Tezuka's chin until Tezuka was looking up at him. Eye to eye, his royal blue to Tezuka's seal brown.

"Tezuka. It is time to let go. Not of Kunimitsu. But of yourself. Your burdens. It is time to heal. Time to stop running away."

Tezuka heaved a long shuddering sigh. He blinked a few times, debating with himself. Then, he closed his eyes against Atobe's penetrating gaze. But he did not break Atobe's grip. Instead, he shifted to press his forehead against Atobe's left shoulder. He had exhausted all his anger and defiance. He was just exhausted.

Through force of habit, Atobe wrapped his free hand around him, holding him close. For a moment, he had a vertigo of deja-vu. Shiroi also liked to lay his head on Atobe's left shoulder when he was being affectionate, since it gave him a good angle to nuzzle. But Tezuka's proximity and posture was completely different. Platonic rather than affectionate, from one trusted friend to another. He patted Tezuka lightly. Tezuka and Shiroi may be completely opposite in nature, but they were also very similar in their unconscious habits.

In a few moments, Tezuka's breathing deepened. Asakura helped him lay the sleeping Tezuka back on the couch.

Atobe was enticing the puppy back into his carrier when Tezuka suddenly opened his eyes.

"I'm sorry for waking you, Tezuka-san," said Asakura, caught halfway draping a blanket over him.

Tezuka blinked in confusion. "Aa. Sorry, I fell asleep. I must be more tired than I thought." Catching sight of Atobe, he continued, "Sorry to keep you waiting, Atobe. I'll change now. Then, we can go."

Atobe exchanged look with Asakura. "Go where?"

Kunimitsu looked at his casual clothes, finding it odd that he wasn't in uniform. Nor was he in tennis clothes. "Is it tennis day or fishing day? I thought we had arranged to play tennis ..." He looked around for his gear.

Atobe quickly recovered. He had not expected Kunimitsu to show up. He had thought Shiroi would come back once Tezuka withdrew. He smirked. He really did better than anyone expected, including himself. "Sorry, Tezuka. Change of plans. There is someone I would like you to meet. Do you mind waiting a few minutes? You can play with Tezuka-chan while you wait." He placed the pup on Kunimitsu's lap.

"Atobe ... that is not funny." Kunimitsu stared at the pup till it scrunched down low, looking pathetically at him. He held a finger pointed at the wet nose. With a firm voice that brook no argument, he addressed the dog, "From now on, your name is Kei-chan."

The pup wagged his tail excitedly and licked Kunimitsu's finger.

Atobe dropped the carrier with a crash. "What?"

"Not so funny now, is it, Kei-chan?" Kunimitsu addressed the puppy in his soothing deep warm voice, completely in opposition to the content of his words that was meant for Atobe. Responding to his tone, the pup rubbed himself against him, happily accepting his new name.

"Tezuka, you have the worst sense of humour," Atobe said sourly as he went to fetch Oshitari Yuriko.

* * *

**Note:**  
Ich bin der König Tezuka = (German) I am King Tezuka

**Response to Reviews:**

My laptop did a humpty-dumpty and now is hopefully being put together again by all the techs in laptop hospital. That left me with no internet and no computer at home. Oh, the torment! I really need multiple computers. This is the first month I have only one computer at home in the last 5 years, having just disposed of my old PC and sold off the ultra-mobile laptop. Sigh … now I have none. For at least a week or two.

On the positive note, there are two new PoT OVAs. One of them is on Seigaku, during Tezuka's first year. The raw is on youtube if you want to check out the adorable younger version of Seigaku.

**Aan:** Thanks! Yeah, I wanted to show a little of Tezuka the mentor. Ball of diamond just sounds pretty. But other than that … I thought it's symbolic in the 'can see, cannot touch' kind of irony that Tezuka's subconscious conjures up. Yeah, you're right. Hopefully, the story is progressing more rapidly now I have most of the people in place. Oh, I'm not sure if I will write what each Seigaku member will feel about Tezuka's situation. I may pick a few, based on plot requirement and what inspiration I get from character analysis.

**kamu:** You are right. Major Atobe-Tezuka interactions for your reading pleasure in this chapter. :D


	29. Chapter 29

**Splintered Mirror  
Chapter 29**

Atobe strutted into Yuriko's office. Even with a torn shirt and dog hair on his trousers, he carried himself like a princely Adonis.

"Atobe-san?" asked Yuriko solicitously. It was only two days since Atobe 'agreed' to work out a compromise with Tezuka. He had spent the better part of the day reading and talking with Shiroi. Pointedly ignoring Yuriko and her expertise. When he turned up that morning with a puppy and a parrot, she thought he had lost his mind. Never mind that she was sure the very adorable ball of fluff had a pedigree longer than most royalty.

"Kunimitsu is waiting for you." There was not mistaking the smug tone of his voice.

"And you have come here personally to tell me?"

Atobe gave her a self-satisfied smirk.

"Ah, you have to tell me personally to rub my face in your success." She shook her head. Atobe Keigo maybe a vain peacock, but even she had to admit there was substance between his ears. When he decided on a course of action, he delivered promptly.

"Of course," said Atobe. "I suggest you get to his room post-haste to do your job. This is a rare opportunity to talk to him without interruptions for a while."

"That is ... very well done, Atobe-san." She hurried out the door, leaving both Sanada and Atobe alone.

"How is he?" asked Sanada.

"Disoriented. He asked me if we had planned a tennis game or a fishing trip."

"What do you think Yuriko-sensei will say to him?"

Atobe shrugged. He was a little wary of talking to Kunimitsu. In case he said too much. Besides, it was Yuriko's show for now. She had to appraise him of his diagnosis and prognosis before Atobe can freely speak to him.

Oshitari Yuriko watched the two men in the room. Asakura had gone back to his usual pose, propping up against the wall. He had chosen a position right next to the door. She guessed it was a good position to bar the door and hold the other person in case he decided to bolt.

The other man in question was sitting on the couch, shaking his head lightly, feeling the unfamiliar weight of his long hair. He held the tail end of the long braid of hair in his hand, frowning in puzzlement while the puppy batted at the thick loop playfully. Other than that, he appeared unexpectedly calm and alert. Unexpected, since Yuriko would have expected some panic, hysteria, confusion or at least, anxiety. The only sign that not everything was right with Kunimitsu was the way his hand drifted to his nose-bridge, as if to adjust his non-existent glasses.

Yuriko slowing pushed the door open without showing herself. She was new to the Kunimitsu alter and she did not want to spook him on first meeting.

"Atobe, what is the meaning of this?" he said, the moment the door swung open. "Give me my glasses back and take this ridiculous wig off. I am not going to go to one of your costume parties again. Our birthday party or not."

"Kunimitsu-san, I am Dr. Oshitari Yuriko."

Kunimitsu stood up immediately the moment he realised it was not Atobe. "_Tezuka _Kunimitsu. Please to meet you." He bowed politely.

Yuriko did not miss the emphasis on 'Tezuka', an indirect and subtle rebuke on her inappropriately chosen term of address. He was obviously uncomfortable with her using his given name and so, chose to remind her of the proper etiquette of personal address.

"I am sorry to have wasted your time, sensei. Atobe can be too enthusiastic sometimes."

Yuriko was taken aback by the strange comment. "Why do you say that, Tezuka-kun?" There and then, Yuriko decided Kunimitsu would be Tezuka-kun while Tezuka would be Tezuka-san. It was too confusing when both alters wanted to be addressed by the same name. Besides, there was an openness and innocence to Kunimitsu that made him appear younger than Tezuka. She did not know how Atobe managed it. They were all 'Tezuka' to him, including Tezuka Kunimitsu the whole person.

"I have told Atobe before. I don't need another orthopaedic specialist. The doctors have done all they can. I just need to follow up on my new rehabilitation training to adjust my techniques."

"I am sorry. I am not sure what you are talking about. But I am not a medical doctor. Let us sit down. There are some important matters I need to discuss with you."

Yuriko started by questioning Kunimitsu's knowledge - what year it was, what were his plans, his current status or situation. Slowly, she began to build a picture of Kunimitsu's current understanding. He was 15 years old and a Third Year student of Seishun Gakuen in Tokyo. He was graduating in March and he had two exam papers coming up the following week. He lived with his parents and grandfather. He played tennis with Atobe once a week. He hadn't seen or spoken to Sanada since the National Tournament award ceremony. He did not go to cram school, not having any need or time for it. His schedule was filled with tennis and student council and self-study.

When he was done, she sent an orderly to fetch the newspaper. She placed the paper in his hand, drawing his attention to the date. Carefully, she broke the news to him. "Tezuka-kun, you have been asleep for a very long time. I would like to bring you up to date on your current condition. I know it will be hard to believe, but I hope you will hear me with an open mind."

Yuriko carefully explained the mental condition called Dissociative Identity Disorder to him and how it was affecting him. She told him about the other alters Shiroi and Tezuka. Then, explained that he had lost time due to the existence of these alters, not that he had amnesia or time-travelled.

Kunimitsu looked askance at her. Looking at her as if it was she who was suffering from mental illness. Yuriko did not miss the twisted irony in how she must have sounded to Kunimitsu. Only, he was too polite to say it out loud. He was humouring her, she thought in wry amusement. Listening to her with an air of reserved scepticism, humouring her authority but reserving his right to doubt her until proven otherwise. At least, he had not rejected her words out of hand. At least, he was giving her the benefit of doubt.

He stood up and paced around the room. His eyes captured details of the room and the limited view he had outside for his mind to analyse and tally up. Looking for falsehood or holes in what she told him. He stopped mid-stride and turned to look directly at her.

Yuriko felt a shiver down her spine when he focused all his attention on her. _So, this is the Tezuka Kunimitsu that had Atobe obsessed for three years, as least according to Yuushi._ Kunimitsu's gaze was as intense and masterful as Tezuka's, only without the wrath and the bitterness. He was very austere and restrained.

"If this is not Atobe's home, and I am not about to play tennis," he said mildly, "then where am I? What am I doing here?"

Yuriko told him all that she had found out from Shiroi. She told him that both Shiroi and Tezuka were able to communicate with each other internally. Then, encouraged Kunimitsu to try to make contact with both of them.

Tezuka gave her a long suffering look. Hearing voices and talking to imaginary people inside one's head were normally signs mental instability. Yet, this woman was asking him to do just that. His long stare and the just-so angle of his eyebrows seemed to convey every logical argument against her every word. _Just who is the crazy one?_ Those eyes seemed to ask. He was being polite by not voicing the obvious discrepancies in her statements.

Yuriko maintained her professional mask. If she thought Tezuka was the difficult alter to deal with, he had just been dethroned by Kunimitsu. And here, she had thought Kunimitsu would be the easiest of the three. Somewhere up there, someone was having a joke at her expense. There should be a rule somewhere that says psychiatric patients should not sound more sane and rational than their therapist. For once, she sympathised with Atobe. If Tezuka Kunimitsu could compress a lecture into a look and an eyebrow, he was a formidable man indeed. _No wonder Atobe was obsessed with him. And Yuushi seems to respect him too. _She shook her head. She should remain objective and judgement-free, not swayed by the opinion of the others.

"I know it sounds really strange, Tezuka-kun. But please, try it."

Tezuka did not comply. He shifted his gaze to Asakura. Then, looked expectantly at the door. _Where is Atobe?_ was clearly heard in his actions.

_Why is he leaving me with this mad woman?_ was Asakura's interpretation of his meaning. He looked at Yuriko, judged that her safety was not his responsibility and his job was finished now that she was here talking to Kunimitsu. He shrugged and let himself out. He tried to convince himself that it was his choice. Not that Tezuka had silently, telepathically compelled him to find Atobe and bring him back. No, not at all. He was simply acting on his best judgement. Who the hell is Kunimitsu that he could give Asakura an order without even opening his mouth? Damn Atobe and his tennis circus.

Seeing he was not quite ready to do as she asked, Yuriko decided to call it a day. She had gotten most of the important initial work done in that two hours. She could see Kunimitsu was getting tired of her presence. Or perhaps, simply the presence of other people. She could recognize the introvert in Kunimitsu easily enough. It was time to leave him to mull over the information she had dumped on him.

"Tezuka-kun, I will leave you to rest now. I will see you again tomorrow."

"Am I a prisoner?"

"Oh, no! You have access to all the facilities and gardens. There are three libraries and various sports facilities. There is even an arcade room, karaoke lounge, music room and mini-theater. I heard the movie collection is quite impressive. I'll let Atobe and Sanada show you around."

"You mean you will let them distract me to avoid telling me I can't leave this compound."

_The boy is blunt_, thought Yuriko. _Arrogant, if I were easily offended. I supposed it was his way of telling me he won't accept white lies and distractions. _But it also showed he was very perceptive. She smiled brightly. "It's been a busy day, Tezuka-kun. Please be patient and take it easy today. We can discuss your other privileges another time."

Beyond all expectations, Kunimitsu remained present for the next three days uninterrupted.

On the fourth day, Tezuka emerged briefly for his 1-hour session that was his part of the bargain. He sat stonily through the hour, grumpy and silent. When he wasn't silent, he gave short answers. She could have built a dictionary of single syllables from Tezuka's responses. His favourite vowel was 'a' and his favourite consonant was 'n'. It was linguistically fascinating how Tezuka had managed to build whole sentences on just 'hn'. The combination of tone, pitch, volume, and expression provided an almost infinite number of permutations and meanings. Tezuka had turned a simple vocalisation into a science.

On the fifth day, Yuriko was worried enough to try to raise Shiroi, which left Kunimitsu looking curiously at her making a fool of herself. Tezuka did not even bother to entertain her. He got tired of hearing her calling Shiroi. He took over from Kunimitsu long enough to tell her to shut up.

On the sixth day, Shiroi woke up. He sheepishly explained that Tezuka had found out that he had freed Kunimitsu and imprisoned him under a mountain. It took him a long time to escape. Even if Tezuka had imprisoned him in Shiroi's own domain, where Shiroi was the strongest, Tezuka's will was much stronger than Shiroi.

At least Shiroi tried to explain what happened. Tezuka simply ignored her question. It was Shiroi that spilled the beans that Tezuka was worn out by Atobe and went into deep sleep. When he woke up, he found Kunimitsu in control, so he decided to sulk for a few days longer.

Yuriko had a talk with Atobe about his methods, not that Atobe even pretended to be contrite. It was generally not a good idea to pit one alter against another. They were supposed to get the alters to trust and help each other, not turn them against one another. At least Shiroi was a forgiving fellow.

In the end, Yuriko was glad to see all three alters present and accounted for. It marked the beginning of a new phase in their road to recovery.

* * *

**Responses to Reviewers:**

Looks like I'm more(?) productive without internet and laptop to waste on MasterChef. But laptop is back now. The old hard disk is on ice and I have a stranger living in my laptop until I can install my regular software and configure Win7 to my satisfaction so it doesn't look anything like Windoze anymore. Alas! My writing notes … my original fictions, my almost done NaNo novel. (T-T) On the other hand, I'm looking forward to a trip next weekend out of the country to see a friend that has finally returned from getting _permanent head damage _in Australia. It'll be my turn next year, except mine will be a lowly _haring off nowhere _sort.

**Kamu** : Hehe! There's another OVA and a movie to look forward to before Shin Tenipuri Anime.

**Aan** : Thanks.

**DjWis** : Thanks for dropping a line. It's nice to hear from a lurking reader. :D The OVA is OVA Another Story II ~Ano Toki no Bokura – Seishun Gakuen Nanafushigi (Seishun Gakuen's Seven Mysteries).

**karupin22** : Thanks! Happy you find the OCs worked out.


	30. Chapter 30

**Splintered Mirror  
Chapter 30  
**  
"Tezuka-kun, can you tell me your first memory? The earliest time you can remember."

Kunimitsu squatted on the edge of the fish pond in the compound. He did not seem to mind getting his pants dirty, unlike Shiroi.

It was Atobe's suggestion to try having Kunimitsu's session outside her office. Yuriko decided that the idea itself had merit. Shiroi was too prone to emotional outbursts to have his sessions in uncontrolled environment. Tezuka, on the other hand, was still too angry and unpredictable to let loose.

Kunimitsu, so far, was the most stable. Although he was also the most bewildered and confused of the three. At least, he was calm and capable of self-restraint. But he was also the quietest. He was guarded and uneasy in her office. Like he was there 'on-duty', awaiting instructions. Her attempts to get him to relax and open up had no effect on him. Not with music. Neither with art nor aromatherapy.

Out here, with a pack of fish pellets in hand, he looked more naturally in place. The koi fish in the pond swam up to him as he scattered a small handful over the surface, as if calling them to him. He poured a handful and dipped his hand into the water. The fish scattered, but he waited patiently for them to come back. Still and quiet. The atmosphere around him was different. It was as tension-free as she had gotten him so far.

Above them, the leaves rustled and a pair of birds sang their courtship.

"Uguisu," said Kunimitsu.

Yuriko blinked. Was Kunimitsu answering her question?

"_Cettia diphone_," he said without looking up. His hand still submerged in the water. "Also known as _haru tsuge dori_, the bird that announces Spring. _Hanami-dori_, the flower viewing bird. You hear them when you go to Hanami, to watch the cherry blossoms bloom. I always hear them when I stand under the sakura tree, watching the gentle rain of petals. Or maybe because I heard their song, I looked up and saw the flowers."

His eyes looked faraway into another time. "It's strange, I never see them during Hanami, only hear their songs. But in early Spring, when the trees are still bare, I see them in the trees. I remembered when my family went to a hanami. I was three, maybe four. We had a straw mat with green cloth border. Okaasan made sakura mochi and onigiri. Otousan told us stories about the _uguisi_. Ojiisan held me up when the wind blows and let the sakura petals rain on me."

A large red and white koi finally decided to venture close enough to eat from Kunimitsu's hand. It ate with loud sucking slurp.

"Do you know why you are here?"

Kunimitsu looked up. "There is something wrong with me."

"Why do you think something is wrong with you?"

"My left arm hurts. My shoulder hurts. Sometimes, my head hurts too. I can't play tennis like this." He flexed his fingers and clenched his left fist. The plastic bag in his hand rustled softly. "Did I do this to myself? I can't remember how I came here. I can't remember how I look like this." He looked at his own reflection in the water. "This is not me."

"You are who you are now. I am here to help you learn to accept it and move on."

"Can I call my mother? I don't know how long I will be here. I should let my family know where I am before they worry."

"Tezuka-kun... your family know where you are. Don't worry about it."

"Is it forbidden for me to contact them?"

"No."

"Then, why have you avoided talking about my family? I need to call home, please. I can't find my phone. I have to borrow yours." His lips thinned with displeasure. Probably because he could not get to Atobe, who had flown off to Europe with a muttered '_I told them so!'_to handle a financial crisis.

Yuriko thought she would never be prepared enough to give bad news to Kunimitsu. The boy was so closed off, yet so vulnerable, she could not begin to predict how he would react. "Could you come sit beside me? There are some news I have to give you."

Kunimitsu turned back to the pond to contemplate the fish eating from his hand. Based on the success of the big koi, the rest of the school gained enough confidence to come close to him. "It is bad news, isn't it?" he said calmly. "Doctors always want me to sit down when they give me bad news."

"You sound quite calm about that."

Kunimitsu shrugged. He withdrew his hand and dried it on a hand towel. "There is no point in speculating and worrying until the facts are determined."

Yuriko shifted and made room for him on one end of the bench. Kunimitsu was nothing like Tezuka and Shiroi. He was both easy and hard. Too rational, too calm, it was disturbing. She had expected more emotional reaction than calmly rationalised response from any one, given the circumstances.

"Tezuka-kun, your family ..."

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry. I don't want to keep any secrets from you. I want you to be able to trust me. I want you to know know that I am here to help you. So I want you to know. Your family died nine years ago in an accident."

Kunimitsu became very still. If she had not been watching him carefully, she would have missed it. His eyes widened behind his rimless glasses. The glasses was from Sanada, suggesting that they provided him with glasses, as alternative to contact lenses. It seemed, Shiroi preferred contacts. Tezuka was indifferent. Kunimitsu always removed the contacts and changed to glasses.

"My grandfather?" he said softly, no louder than the faintest sigh of breeze.

"Yes."

"Mother?"

"Yes."

"Father?"

"Yes."

"So, there is no one to call."

"Yes."

Kunimitsu nodded. "I would still like to make a few calls, please." His voice remained calm, neither loud nor anxious. "No offence, sensei. I barely know you. I would like to verify these facts for myself, if you please."

"I'll let you make the calls on two conditions. One, you tell me who you are calling. Two, I will be present in the room."

Kunimitsu nodded. The pack of fish food dropped to the floor with a dull thud.

"No! You don't have to tell him! You shouldn't tell him! You have no right to tell him!"

Two aides came running to her when he started yelling. He threw the first man over his shoulder, straight into the pond. Then, grabbed the second one, twisting his arm behind his back and pinning him. The third aide reach them and tackled him to the ground. It took three of them to hold him down. Even so, he bucked and kicked against them.

Yuriko tapped one of the aides on the shoulder. "Let him go."

Tezuka stopped struggling the moment they released him.

Yuriko stood in front of him, ensuring she had his full undivided attention. "Tezuka-san. I will continue to tell Kunimitsu whatever he needs to know. You may fight me all you want. But whatever I know, he will know, eventually. I will not keep secrets from any of you. So please, work with me. He will find out everything. Believe me. However any times I have to tell him and Shiroi."

Tezuka gave her a venomous stare. Suddenly, he stopped and curled into himself. "Stop! Please, stop. Shiroi sorry. No Tezuka. No come out. Bad Tezuka. Sorry. Sorry."

It took a while to calm Shiroi down. At least, he was not prone to violence and allowed himself to be led back to his room.

The next day, Kunimitsu had _forgotten _their conversation. She suspected Tezuka had taken away his memory. She had to break the news to him again. When Kunimitsu asked to make the phone calls again, she was prepared. She had brought in a cordless phone for him to use.

"I am calling my home number," Kunimitsu announced. He dialled. He listened to the ringing.

A woman picked up the call.

"Hello," said Kunimitsu. "Is this the Tezuka residence?"

"Sorry, wrong number."

He hung up.

"I am calling my mother's mobile phone." Another wrong number.

"I am calling my father's office." Another disappointment. Call after call. It was like blundering into another parallel world. Everything looked the same. But everything that was important was missing. Everything that defined his universe.

Yuriko watched Kunimitsu carefully. Each disappointment added another brush-stroke to the reality of her words to him. She waited for him to give up or to at least show some sign of frustration and anxiety. But it was still the same calm stillness. Like the eye of the storm. He was systematically and methodically running through the numbers that meant something, everything to him.

He went on to call his father's mobile, his grandfather's office, and his grandfather's mobile. All with negative results. He paused a moment. He had tried 6 different numbers by then. She thought he might have exhausted his list of numbers to call. But he surprised her. He asked her for the day of the week, then checked the time. Then, with the handset in hand, he made another announcement.

"I am calling a teacher." It was the same flat monotone.

"Hello, Ryuuzaki residence," a gravelly female voice greeted him.

"Ryuuzaki-sensei," said Kunimitsu.

"Tezuka?" A shocked whisper followed. "Tezuka, is that you?"

"Yes, sensei."

"Where are you? Are you all right? No, where are you? Where are you right now?"

"I am at Yomogi Institute, in Yokohama."

"Are you safe? Are you all right?"

"Yes."

"Stay there. I'm coming. I'm coming right now. What's the address?"

Kunimitsu blinked in confusion. He gave her the address. "It's all right, sensei. I am fine."

"Yokohama. I'll be there in two hours. Don't go anywhere." She hung up.

Kunimitsu looked puzzled for a moment before putting the receiver down. "Ryuuzaki-sensei is coming in two hours. I have to wait for her." With that, he sat down and picked up a book to continue his reading.

Yuriko left him in the garden. She knew he was prepared to stay there for several hours while waiting for this 'Ryuuzaki-sensei'. That endless patience and quietude was a common trait he shared with Shiroi.

A very fit woman introduced herself as Ryuuzaki Sumire before demanding to see Tezuka Kunimitsu immediately. When she saw Kunimitsu standing in the garden, she broke down and hugged him fiercely.

Kunimitsu looked faintly embarrassed at the affectionate display.

Ryuuzaki-sensei had aged much. There were white streaks in her hair and she was thinner than he remembered. She looked odd to him in casual wear. Unfamiliar without her customary tracksuit and pony tail. Incongruous without the two-piece suit she wore in Maths class.

"Where have you been? Where have you been? I've been worried about you. I should never have let you out on your own. Why didn't you call me?" She cupped his face in her hands, looking deeply and searchingly into his eyes. As if to convince herself he was really there. "It really is you," she said softly to herself.

"Sensei," said Kunimitsu. "You are the first person I could reach."

"What do you mean? Are you all right?"

"I ... I am as well as can be expected."

"What happened to you?"

"Sensei, I can't contact my family. I've been told my family is dead."

"Yes, I know."

"I just found out."

"What? But ... you knew ..." Ryuuzaki gave Kunimitsu a puzzled look.

It took a flash for Kunimitsu to process her words. Yuriko caught a brief glimpse of his shock-widened eyes, furrowed brow and the barest shudder that ran through his form. Then, he mastered himself once more. His expression schooled to polite formality. He nodded silently and took a step back. All his body language indicated he was disengaging and wished to go off alone.

Ryuuzaki noticed his discomfort and his long braided hair that swung heavily when he moved. "You need a hair cut again," she said, trying to lighten the mood. The length of his hair was something of a long running private-joke between them. Ryuuzaki had been one of the school disciplinary teachers and Tezuka's hair was always skirting on borderline acceptable length for a male student. Every four months, he had to be reminded have his head trimmed.

"Aa. I really left it too long this time."

"Ryuuzaki-sensei," interrupted Yuriko. "I am Tezuka-kun's therapist. Is it all right if we talk in my office?"

"Tezuka," said Ryuuzaki. She still held his hand tightly in hers. She was reluctant to let him out of her sight again. It was the most liberty Kunimitsu had allowed to anyone. Like Tezuka, Kunimitsu had a very rigid definition of personal space and disliked physical contact with unfamiliar strangers.

"He will wait here for us," said Yuriko.

Kunimitsu nodded. "I am sorry for worrying you, sensei."

When she entered Yuriko's office, she stared at the young man in the room. "Sanada-kun?" she said in surprise.

"You know him, Ryuuzaki-san?"

"Yes," answered Sanada for her. "She was Tezuka's tennis club teacher and one of our tennis camp coaches. We are sorry for not calling you earlier, Ryuuzaki-sensei." Sanada bowed low before her. "None of us thought to check with you."

Ryuuzaki looked bewildered between them. "What is going on?"

Yuriko briefly explained Kunimitsu's condition and how Atobe brought him into her care. "So, you see, the alter that contacted you is Kunimitsu. I believe he is the core identity. Neither Tezuka or Shiroi had tried to call you. But Kunimitsu ... the first thing he asked for was to call his family." She smiled. "He was quite persistent. Every time I see him, that was the first thing he asked."

Ryuuzaki nodded and sat down heavily. "It's just like Tezuka. He has always been a responsible boy. It was not by coincidence that he had unusual amount of independence for a boy his age. His parents gave him a lot of trust and freedom. In exchange, he has to keep them informed of his activities - when he will be home late and where he would be. It's an ingrained habit. Wherever he goes, he always called home to let his mother know. Every after-school meeting that ran late. Every late night extra practice. Tezuka calling home at 5pm exactly was a common sight in school corridor. His mother called me a few times when he was a first year. Just to check up on him. So far, he had never failed to call ahead."

Yuriko nodded. "Kunimitsu tried calling home, before he called you."

"He said he just found out about his family. How could that be?"

"As far as I could determine, Kunimitsu's memory stopped some time before the end of his Junior High School. He is still trying to adjust to the fact that he had lost 10 years of his life."

"But ... but ... he wasn't like this before."

"Can you tell us what you know before Tezuka disappeared?" asked Sanada. "After the accident?"

"The hospital informed the school, some time after he woke up from his coma. The doctors thought he had lost some of the more recent memory just before the accident. About three months. He did not remember the accident or why he was travelling. The doctors assured me it was a good sign that he had only lost a short period of time. He would probably recover that memory in time. By the time he was discharged, Tezuka had missed half a year of high school. It was too late for him to go to Germany. He decided to start working to support himself. I got him a job in a cafe. I knew he will get at least two proper meals there. With Tezuka, sometimes he was so absorbed, he even forgot to eat.

"He worked there for a while. Studying on his own for the next entrance exam. Even then, I think he wasn't really going to apply for Senior High School. It takes a lot of money to put himself through school. He needed every yen just to support himself. He won't even let me help him financially.

"I got in touch with some publishing contacts. I thought, maybe freelance writing would give him extra income and more time to study. But Tezuka did not really want anything to do with tennis. It was still too painful for him. Instead, he was redirected to an educational department. Things seemed to go well for him.

"Then, suddenly, he just disappeared. The landlord came to find me when he couldn't find Tezuka. I was his referral for his room rental. He was under-aged, so the contract was under my name. I asked the landlord to keep the place open for another three months, in case Tezuka came back. But he never came back.

"There was a break in and someone stole his suitcase. So, I collected the rest of his belongings and took them home with me. I've been wondering ever since. If he'd been in an accident. If he was nameless and lost in yet another hospital. Or if he had died and nobody knew about it. What ... what happened to him?"

"That is what we are trying to find out," said Sanada.

* * *

**Note:**

_Uguisu -_ **Japanese Bush Warbler** (_Cettia diphone)_ is a small drab-coloured song bird more often heard than seen. Its distinctive breeding call can be heard throughout Japan from the start of spring.

Other Japanese names are _haru-dori_ (spring bird), _haru-tsuge-dori_ (spring-announcing bird) and _hanami-dori_ (flower-viewing bird). Japanese poetry has given it the names _uta-yomi-dori_ (poem-reading bird) and _kyo-yomi-dori_ (sutra-reading bird), because its call is traditionally transcribed in Japanese as "Hoo-hoke-kyo", which is a phrase from Buddhist lotus sutra.

**Responses to Reviewers:**

I'm posting this early, since I'll be out of the country for a week for a conference.

**Ka21**: Thanks!

**Kamu**: Sanada will still be around, though sometimes, I don't know what to do with him. Yes, it is finally coming to the hard parts of his recovery. Hehe … Atobe is scary when he is challenged.

**Aan**: Please write the review for the Ch 28 if you have time. Glad you enjoyed last chapter. The telepathy part was random spur of the moment thing. I guess I wanted a Kunimitsu that is different from Shiroi and Tezuka. But I want him to be stronger than both, at the same time, more vulnerable (which I hoped comes across in this chapter). No comment on the hair. It is a plot device that I have plans for, but haven't figured out how to execute yet. I don't know yet about the birthday party. I wouldn't kill Shiroi yet. I have very clear scene of his … ahem. Well, let's just say he will still be around until he reached closure.

**Note2**: Edited on 29 Sep 2011. Sorry to those who read earlier version. Just minor changes to Tezuka's scene to keep Tezuka IC and show how Yuriko stopped him from manipulating Kunimitsu and further misbehavior. Thanks Aan for the heads up.


	31. Chapter 31

**Splintered Mirror  
Chapter 31**

"Tezuka-kun, you have a surprise visitor!"

Tezuka looked up from his reading to the nurse standing at the door to his room. He gave a brief nod of acknowledgment and put down his reading material. Then, he carefully untangle his legs from the rubber straps that he was using to exercise his leg muscles.

He spoke as little as possible. His throat still felt raw and dry. He could not speak above whisper soft or for long sentence without coughing and discomfort. The nutritionist was still ordering what Tezuka called mush for his meals. It was easier for him to swallow, but did little for his appetite for what he viewed with distaste as semi-solid baby food. He supposed the man knew his job. He had been able to keep his meals down better than a day ago. He would be on mush diet, slowing shifting to solid food until his digestive system learns how to process normal food again.

It was his fifth day in the institute. That is, it was his fifth conscious day. According to the doctor, he had been in Edokita Nursing Home for four and a half months. He had turned sixteen in his coma the week before. He did not feel sixteen.

He could still remember turning fifteen and that overly bombastic party that Atobe threw for their combined birthdays. Not that Atobe needed the slightest excuse to throw a party. The birthday party was followed by Halloween Masquerade Ball, which was followed by Christmas Party.

The Masquerade was the worst. For some reason, Atobe insisted Tezuka should be a Han Chinese Emperor to match his opulent French Emperor. Layers upon layers of silk robes, followed by more layers of heavily embroidered outer robes of dragons. At least they were worn somewhat similarly to Japanese kimono, down to the trailing long sleeves. There was even a thick gold embroidered belt to hold the everything together. Then, for the sake of historical accuracy, Tezuka had to use contacts because corrective eye-wear had not been invented yet in from 200 BCE to 200 CE. This was followed by a ridiculously long-haired wig that was styled with a topknot and a long loose tail. The Hans believed that hair was sacred and should not be cut. For once, Tezuka wished Atobe was not as knowledgeable as he was in world history. He could not even disagree with Atobe because he knew Atobe was technically accurate.

It was the hat that broke the camel's back. Atobe had chosen Emperor Wu's hat as model. It had a topknot cover with a long jade pin to secure it to the hair. But there was a long roof piece balanced on top of the topknot with curtains of beads on the front and back. Tezuka was horrified to find that he could not possibly talk to anyone without hitting them or himself with those beads. Before he embarrassed himself in public, he tore the top roof off. When Atobe protested, Tezuka told him there should not be two emperors in the same room, Tezuka would be a Han Royal Prince. At which point, Atobe was so flattered and enamored with the idea, it was impossible for him to argue otherwise.

Tezuka had put his foot down on New Year Party, especially when it was barely a week after the Chrismas party. His family had their own traditions of going away for their New Year. A trip to a mountain ryokan for family bonding, followed by viewing the first sunrise, the first visit to the local shrine and a visit to his grandmother's grave. The Tezuka family had been following the same ritual for as long as he could remember. On his last New Year in Japan for the foreseeable future, he would rather spend it with his family.

He frowned at the thought of his family. He had been trying to get access to a telephone to call home. His own mobile phone was lost. Well, he had considered it lost as it was not part of the luggage that came to him. Luggage he did not remember packing. So far, his request for a telephone had been denied and given vague excuses. He hoped the new visitor was a member of his family, if only to put his mind at ease. He would continue to fret as long as he was unsure if his mother knew where he was.

He slowly slid down the bed and carefully put on his slippers. His co-ordination was still shaky and his body did not respond to him as well as he had wanted. The nurse keep a watchful eye on him and helped lower him into the waiting wheel chair.

The first day he had awakened, he remembered waking several times for a minute or two; lying in bed, watching the ceiling. Only the changing brightness of his environment gave any clue to the passage of time. The second day, he remembered waking up in the afternoon with the sun bright and warm. He felt someone in the room with him. He asked for water but did not remember she heard him or if he drank it. He woke up again that night feeling cold and his arms aching. But he was unable to move or speak. He lay in silence wondering where he was. If he was dreaming or having a nightmare. Trying to recall what day it was and what meetings he had or subjects he planned to study for the day. He fell asleep running halfway through German verbs in his head.

On the third day, he woke up early in the morning and remained awake for two hours. He had a migraine. He groggily tried to stand up and fell off his bed when his legs gave way underneath him. His drip pulled out of his hand and the machine screamed loud and long. He could only curl on the floor, covering his ears helplessly. It was just as well the alarm went off. He was too weak and disoriented to reach the call button himself. The alarm brought the nurses that helped him back into bed.

They moved him to the rehabilitation ward that day. The administrative officer appraised him of his current situation and got him to confirm the sketchy personal details they had from his original admission. He was so confused at that time, all he could think of was that he had missed school since January and why his mother had packed the huge luggage bag he had used in Germany for him instead of his smaller overnight bag.

That afternoon, the assigned physiotherapist started immediately to get his muscles and joints back into condition. He felt alien in his own body. But the light exercises of squeezes, pushes, curls and stretches left him more alert and aware. The exercises that he normally thought as too light to even warm up on, now left him panting and exhausted. He allowed himself a minute of rest between sets before he forced himself to start the repetition again. He worked out on his own after the therapist left him to rest. He would do anything to be able to stand on his own two feet again and hold a cup without trembling. He would do anything to fill in the empty stretches of time between check-ups and meals and medications.

"Ryuuzaki-sensei." Tezuka was not surprised to see his teacher waiting for him. He had expected the hospital to call the school. He hoped they had called his family first. But the fact that Ryuuzaki-sensei was here, but not his mother meant they had called the school first.

"Tezuka!" She met him halfway. "Are you all right? How are you feeling?"

"Fine, sensei." The furrow on his brows belied his brave words. He squinted up at her, not that he needed to see her clearly to identify her. He knew her well enough to recognise her through her gravelly voice and the blurry outline of her shape.

"Where are his glasses?" Ryuuzaki-sensei asked the nurse, a little too sharply.

He recognised her tone when she was taking her role as protective authority and educator seriously. Even if it was rarely heard and generally not known to others. He knew when she took that mindset, she will not tolerate any fooling around, excuses or nonsense. There was a reason why she was a disciplinary teacher most often assigned with the most difficult students. As much as she was chummy and indulgent towards her tennis boys, she had a fearsome reputation that was well respected by even the most delinquent students in school.

The nurse looked surprised. There was no eye-wear listed in the inventory of Tezuka's possessions. No one mentioned anything about Tezuka's short-sightedness, including Tezuka himself. If he held his reading materials a little too close to his nose, no one made any comment on it.

"Lost," Tezuka answered for her, redirecting Ryuuzaki-sensei's attention back to him.

Tezuka had one Maths class with her in his second year. It did not matter whether he was the Vice-Captain and star athlete of the school. If he failed to give her satisfactory answer in class, he would be missing practices and staying late into evenings for extra tutorial till he knew chapter and verse by heart. Because he is Tezuka, he only needed one such tutorial and never allowed himself to repeat the experience again.

By the time he was in third year, he knew enough about Ryuuzaki-sensei's habits and the horrors of dealing with difficult students. So, if Ryuuzaki-sensei was absent or late for afternoon tennis practise, Tezuka did not begrudge her the time. If he needed her immediately, he knew which classroom to find her in. Otherwise, he could run the club smoothly without her presence.

Ryuuzaki-sensei pursed her lips in displeasure. She patted his hand. "Don't worry. I'll get a new pair from your optician. You've lost weight. Are they feeding you properly?"

Tezuka nodded. It wasn't just weight that he had lost. His fitness and muscle tone had also deteriorated in the months he had been bedridden. He felt like he should apologise to his coach for his subpar physical condition until he remembered he had retired from Tennis Club. The Nationals and friendly inter-school match season was over. He apologised for his unfit condition anyway. An athlete's most important asset was his body. He felt that he had neglected his most important responsibility as a sportsman.

"Tezuka-kun, Ryuuzaki-sensei." A man introduced himself as a counsellor who will oversee Tezuka's overall recovery.

The counsellor went through Tezuka's planned rehabilitation. Physiotherapy to get his muscles and joints back into condition. Nutritionist to monitor his food and fluids till he could consume normal food. The nutritionist will also need to monitor him and adjust his diet to prevent and take care of any malnutrition he had. It was not unusual for coma patients to be malnourished when they woke up.

Occupational therapist to help him manage his partial disability. After finding out Tezuka had severe damage to his dominant arm, he was engaged to help Tezuka improve and compensate for permanent loss of function. The therapist went into some details, pulling out x-rays and scans and charts. He pointed out fracture lines and where the bones had healed, tissue scars, locations of nerve damage and what the surgeons had done to repair whatever they could. The good news was, nerve fibres could repair themselves slowly. While it was impossible to gain complete recovery, if everything went well, Tezuka would see gradual improvements in sense and motor control over two to four years. There would be exercises and retraining of his rewired nerves and retraining his right hand to compensate for the loss of functionality on his left.

There was no mention of tennis in that long discussion. Tezuka kept silent through it all, except to inquire about his family. The counsellor patted his hand soothingly and told him not to worry. Then, went on to talk about the hospital facilities and Tezuka's schedule. Tezuka frowned but did not ask again.

Ryuuzaki-sensei did not like what she saw, but held her tongue as well. She could feel something was wrong. More wrongness than what she was hearing about Tezuka's condition. When Tezuka was wheeled out for his next activity, she stayed back and shut the door firmly, trapping the counsellor with her.

"All right," she said sternly. "What are you hiding from Tezuka? Out with it!"

"Ryuuzaki-sensei ..."

"Why are you evading the basic questions and going roundabout? The boy is not stupid. He knows you are hiding things from him. How did he get hurt? Why aren't his parents here?"

"Ah ... that is what I wish to discuss with you. You see, the boy is still delicate, both in mentally and physically. I want him to get stronger before we break the news to him."

"What news?"

"The reason his family are not here is they have passed away. We are still trying to find his next of kin and contact them. We have sent request for his mother's koseki in Tohoku." He went on to tell her about the car accident and how Tezuka ended up in their facility.

Ryuuzaki-sensei clutched her handbag tightly. She had not expected this. Tezuka, to her knowledge, had gone away to Germany. She even attended his farewell party. To find him alone in Japan all this while was a punch in the gut. She had thought he had an accident and was sent home for treatment. But he had never even left. It explained his long silence and the state of his physical deterioration. Tezuka, as a conscientious athlete, would never have allowed himself to become this way. Yet it took a little over six months to reduce him to a shadow of himself.

She shook her head without being aware of it. She had stopped listening as the man droned on. She did not know if she was disagreeing with him or denying the news he had given her.

She remembered her first contact with Tezuka's family. His mother called the school in the first few weeks during his First Year when Tezuka stayed late into evening for tennis practice. Unlike most parents who called to check if their kids were telling the truth about their whereabouts, she never questioned her son's presence in the school. She only wanted to know whether Kunimitsu could be released an hour before dark because his home was quite a distance away and she did not want him to walk home alone late at night.

The first face to face contact with his family was when Tezuka was in his Second Year, shortly after they had been kicked out of the annual tennis tournament. But Tezuka, for his spectacular display in Kantou tournament, was invited to a special tennis camp for the best performing players in the circuit. She was about to tell him about it when she noticed his form and his strokes were slightly off. She was not about to let him go until she got to the bottom of his problem. After practice, she cornered him, and wrung the truth out of him. His elbow had been hurting, but he had tried hiding it so no one would worry. She drove him to the hospital for a check up. The news was grave. Grave enough for her to drive him home to discuss his injury and his future with his family.

The Tezuka family listened to her carefully. Then, his father turned to Tezuka and asked him what was his decision. She was surprised by how calmly the family was taking the news. No drama, no crying, scolding, shouting or denial. No accusation or blame, either on Ryuuzaki-sensei's negligence or Tezuka.

Tezuka calmly apologised for worrying them. Then, he told them he had decided to stop playing tennis for a while and will decline the tennis camp invitation. He needed to see a specialist for treatment. He wanted to be ready to play again the next year.

He was answering his father's question, but he was looking at his grandfather while he talked. The old man gave the boy the barest of nod. It wasn't anything she could point to, but the tension in the air seemed to relax in that moment. Tezuka's father thumped his back approvingly. His mother took his hand in hers and told him not to worry. They would manage whatever challenges ahead together. She did not say it explicitly, but she was reassuring him that whatever the medical costs came to, his parents would find a way to pay them.

It wasn't until then that Ryuuzaki-sensei understood the Tezuka family dynamics. They had allowed Tezuka to weigh his options and decide for himself what was right for him. Most teachers would have thought it inappropriate for the parents to allow their 13-year-old child to make such an enormously serious life decision. But Ryuuzaki-sensei liked to think that she understood Tezuka better than any teaching staff in Seishun Gakuen. His family could allow Tezuka such autonomy because he is Tezuka Kunimitsu. He is strong because he had a strong foundation of trust and support.

She held her hand up to cut off the man. "You have to tell Tezuka the truth now. Don't underestimate him. It will be worse ..."

"I've told you ..."

"He is not stupid. Do you think he hasn't realised yet?"

"Everyone has been instructed not to say ..."

"The boy doesn't need to be told. It's what he doesn't see and hear. He knows what is missing. You have lost his trust. You have to tell him now or you will lose him completely."

"I had hoped you would co-operate with ..." He was interrupted again, but not by Ryuuzaki-sensei.

A nurse knocked frantically on the door. "Doctor! Tezuka-kun is missing!"

"Why? When? How …?"

"He asked for a laptop to study … We did not think he would use it to find them. He logged into a Judo dojo forum and saw the condolence posts for his family."

For once, Ryuuzaki-sensei wished her words were not so prophetic.

* * *

This story has grown seriously complicated. I had to keep track of what Tezuka knew/remember at which point in time. And what the three Tezuka-alters knew at which point in time. If you're lost/confused, I empathise with you.

This is also probably the most research intensive chapter yet.

**Responses to Reviewers:**

Why, oh why I have to keep breaking bad news to Tezuka over and over again. I hope you guys are not bored or confused reading the same theme yet again.

karupin22 : I'm so glad to hear that. Heartbreaking was exactly what I aimed for.

Kamu : Hope in this chapter, Ryuuzaki answers part of Sanada's question. You were surprised by Ryuuzaki-sensei's appearance? Glad to hear it! I did hint it, many chapters back. Hehe ...

Aan : I'm so pleased you like those simple lines. I had them written/imagined for quite a while as a milestone scene. Hmm … why Atobe/Sanada/Fuji is keeping silent on that … Atobe/Sanada are privy to very confidential information they were not sure they would be violating Tezuka's right to confidentiality. Fuji only guessed and since he was always with the others when he visits, he also did not have the opportunity. The rest … you will have to wait and see. I don't think anyone has quite exhausted the character count. So happy to have such a long review.

mCinney : No, it's not awkward at all. Thank you so much! Sad and nostalgic. I'm happy to hear it. It is one of my goals when I started this. I'm not very good at writing drama, though I seem to do okay on establishing atmosphere.

Aan (Ch 28) : If you paint a picture, please send us the link. Would you believe I was really stumped on how I could get Atobe to break through? All that crack pretty much happened spontaneously while writing. I had to google pages and pages on miniature horses to find if there is such thing as miniature Arabian, instead of the usual ponies. Hahaha! Kunimitsu is sneaky that way. He is really underhanded when getting back at others to teach them a lesson, just so they won't repeat it again.

* * *

**Notes:**  
Oct 7 - Tezuka turned 15.  
**Apr 2 -**** Sr High 1 (Apr 2 - Mar) **  
Apr 2 - Accident/Coma – ICU.  
Apr 19 - Children's Ward.  
May 31 - Moved to Edokita Nursing Home for long term specialised care.  
Oct 7 - Tezuka turned 16,

**Oct 14 – Tezuka woke up.**

- **Effects of long-term Coma**- Use results from medical studies and patient experiences. Focus on post 6-months coma. No movie-coma convenience of waking up walking, talking, etc like normal. Attention to body condition (since Tezuka is an athlete) and effects from accident wounds (head trauma and lacerations to left upper body, broken arm). Change Tezuka walking to wheelchair. After 6 months of inactivity and muscle atrophy, takes longer than 5 days to rebuild muscle strength to support his own weight. Though he recovers faster due to youth (16), being originally fit and experienced in physical training.

**- Post coma rehabilitation and recovery**- Motivation and mind-set plays key roles in how fast and how well a patient recovers from traumatic brain injury (TBI) coma. An active mind and positive attitude with strong desire for recovery tends to recover faster.

**- Homeroom teacher**- Homeroom teacher has a special role, different from normal subject teachers. The relationship between student and homeroom teacher in Japan goes deeper than academic instruction. The student normally has a single homeroom class (group of students) and a single homeroom teacher throughout his time in the school level (elementary-6 years, junior high-3 years, senior high-3 years). Homeroom teachers are responsible for every aspect of the student's education. Not only their academic competence, but also ensures each student is socially well-rounded and ready to function as a member of the next level of society upon graduation (eg. high school, university, workplace). Homeroom teacher acted as disciplinarian, counsellor and mentor and takes personal interest in their lives. The strong relationship grows over years of continuity, and students continue to feel a sense of gratitude for the rest of their lives. The teacher could be the one who helped them get into the university or company, or helped them overcome social problems and find a job. For children with busy/absent parents, the teacher even fill the role of foster parent. The relationship did not end when the student leaves school. Former students also inform homeroom teacher about big events in their lives; e.g. new jobs, transfers, births, and deaths. (Times and attitude have changed some of this culture in recent time, 2010+. But this fic is based Tezuka's school life in the early 2000's and late 1990's. So, some of the studies on the role of Homeroom teacher in the 1990's is still relevant in Tezuka's time period.) Besides, Ryuuzaki is of older generation of teachers, hence still old school, compared to Sakaki, Osamu and Hanamura. Even these 'younger' teachers display personal interest in their students.

**- Ryuuzaka Sumire**- Modelling Ryuuzaki Sumire's relationship to Tezuka similar to a Japanese Homeroom teacher with her student. While it is ambiguous whether Ryuuzaki was Tezuka's homeroom teacher, she did have that kind of connection to Tezuka. (She also showed similar relationship to Echizen Nanjirou.) Ryuuzaki was a constant presence in three years of Tezuka's school life. With Tezuka's deep commitment and involvement in tennis club as vice-captain and captain, he had the longest and closest contact to Ryuuzaki than any other staff member. She knew of his personal problems and looked out for him. At the same time, she did her best to help him advance in his goals and guide him in his career development.

**- Tezuka**, waking up from coma, still identified himself a student of Seigaku despite having graduated in reality. Having lost 3 months of memory (retrograde amnesia) from the time of the accident, his internal time was rewound back to January*, while he as still a student of Seigaku. The hospital would naturally inform the school and the school Principal would send the teacher with the closest relationship to the student to deal with the problem. Also, it is possible for some students to build a close relationship with another teacher (especially sports coach) instead of their homeroom teacher. Sometimes, the student feels more comfortable with the teacher that spent hours in club practice with them every day than homeroom teacher that spent a hour a day with them.

**- Japanese school year**starts from first Monday of April to end March of the next year. Tezuka thought he still had three months of junior high schooling left.

- **Compulsory education** in Japan consists of elementary and lower secondary (Junior High) levels. Upper secondary (Senior High) level is voluntary with 96% continuation.

- **koseki**(戸籍) is Japanese family registry. Japanese law requires all Japanese households to report births, paternity, adoptions, deaths, marriages and divorces of Japanese citizens to their local authority, which compiles such records within their jurisdiction. When a person moves from one household to another (e.g. married women), the koseki contains reference to her previous koseki. Conclusion : possible to trace maternal line through koseki.

- **Nerve regeneration** - if the outer sheath of a nerve fibre is still intact, nerve cell can regrow along the tube, about 1 inch a month. Loss of outer sheath could cause the nerve to bunch up at the point of breakage, causing misfiring which translates to electric shocks and pain.


	32. Chapter 32

**Splintered Mirror  
Chapter 32**

Ryuuzaki-sensei watched the staff ran around the grounds, checking every room on every floor.

"Where can a Level 3 patient go? He can't even walk two steps without help," grumbled a nurse as she walked past.

"Rooftop is clear!" reported another orderly to the front desk. "Mori is staying up there to make sure he doesn't come up behind us."

"Rooftop?" remarked Ryuuzaki-sensei incredulously. She didn't think Tezuka could even walk up one flight of stairs to reach it.

The head nurse gave her a wry nod. "We had to be careful. The rooftop is completely fenced in, but we had several attempted suicides before that tried to climb the fence."

Ryuuzaki-sensei shook her head. It was becoming obvious to her that Tezuka was not anywhere in the building. "Where do you go when you are a Tezuka that did not want to be found?" she said to herself. She looked out the window to her car, parked neatly by the side of the building. "The answer is nowhere. Because the question is wrong. The assumption that formulated the question is wrong. It is not that Tezuka does not want to be found. It is that Tezuka has something he had to do."

She gave her name card to the head nurse with a note to call her if they find Tezuka, which she doubted. Then, she walked out to her car.

The lane was quiet in the middle of the day. Ryuuzaki-sensei cruised the car slowly while she checked every nook and cranny, every archway and under the shady trees that lined the street. It was a quiet middle-income neighbourhood. Neat, traditional, well maintained and unpretentious. Occasionally, she could hear a sizzle and smell lunch cooking in the homes.

She slowed down as she came near a two-storey traditional looking house. The wooden gate was high with large treetops peeking over the fence. Opposite the gate, under the shade of a tree on the sidewalk, Tezuka waited in his wheelchair. She parked next to him and came out to stand beside him.

"How long are you planning to stay there?" she said by way of greeting.

Tezuka blinked slowly, but did not take his gaze away from the gate.

"Have you gone in?"

He shook his head. "I cannot."

Anyone would have said something inane next, or sympathetic. Just to fill the silence that Tezuka left. But Ryuuzaki-sensei knew Tezuka. She had taught kids since Tezuka was in diaper. She let the silence be filled with rustling leaves and made herself comfortable leaning against the smooth tree trunk. She could utilise silence as well as Tezuka did. It was still one of the most efficient ways to get an honest answer out of the kids.

After a moment, Tezuka spoke again. "When I came ... I was afraid to go in. To find what is not waiting for me. Then, I knew I can't go in. Those are not my mother's flower pots lining the wall. This is not my father's car. My grandfather would never allow the koi pond to be filled with cement."

His voice cracked a little at the end. He coughed, cleared his throat and took slow deep long breaths. Ryuuzaki-sensei opened for him a bottle of water she always stocked in her car. Being a sports coach taught her to keep liquids near at hand at all times. Being around Inui taught her to keep a separate private uncontaminated stash that the kids could not get into. A stash securely under lock and key.

"This is my house. But it is not. It is not my house. It is not my family inside. There is no one waiting for me inside."

"Tezuka ..."

"I don't know why I am here. I don't belong here. I should not be here."

Ryuuzaki-sensei did not know if he meant in front of what should have been his own house or in that nightmarish life he suddenly found himself in. She thought he meant both. She had to break him out of his fey mood.

"I have to go ..."

"Not now," she interrupted him. She knew where he wanted to go next even if she did not know where the actual location was. "It is past noon. You need to eat and build your strength."

"I have to ..." Tezuka said stubbornly.

"Later. When you are ready. I will take you myself."

Tezuka looked ready to rebel. He had a stubborn gleam in his eyes that she knew well. He only got that way when he had been pushed more than he was willing to tolerate. It usually meant bad omen for the pusher. But in this case, Tezuka was severely disadvantaged.

She patted him on the shoulder. She was used to dealing with stubborn. "I promise. When you can walk on your own feet out the door, I will drive you myself. You can't climb stairs in that thing." She had experience with stubborn. She looked him in the eye. "Trust me."

Tezuka seemed to deflate, which was the best assent she would get out of him for now.

"Come on. Let's go."

He looked at his wheelchair, then at her small car meaningfully.

She sighed. "How did you manage to get all the way here by yourself?" she muttered. There was no way she could fit Tezuka's chair in her car.

"I may not be able to do much, but I can still push a button or a stick." He pushed the joystick placed just at the tip of the chair's right arm and propelled himself off the sidewalk into the road.

"You can't possibly drive that chair across three Wards to get here," she growled at him. "You don't even have a driving license!"

Tezuka gave her a crooked rueful smile. "I took a taxi van. I don't think I have enough money left in my wallet for the fare back."

"You are too smart for your own good," she grumbled at him. "There's a yatai round the corner. Think you can eat oden?"

"Aa."

His 'aa' sounded happier than his silence in the hospital, she thought.

"Will you tell the ojisan not to mince everything into a grey mash?"

"Idiot! Who is going to baby you like that?" she said in mock grouchiness. It was good to see some of his ironic humour back. But she would also ask the yatai-ojisan to cut the pieces smaller and give Tezuka the ones that had been boiled for so long, they practically melt in the mouth. "You need a hair cut again."

"I'm not in school now."

"You are just looking for an excuse not to cut your hair." She roughly finger combed his hair.

Tezuka gave her an inscrutable look.

"Little tanuki, that's what you are! Tricky naughty stubborn little rascal!" She grumbled good-naturedly. "Come! I'll push you. What will you do with a flat battery?"

"Learn to walk."

To that, she had no answer; only a deep pang in her heart.

It took three hours for the hospital to send an ambulance to collect Tezuka. By then, he was looking much better than a corpse warmed over. The late afternoon sun put colours in his pale complexion. They passed the time by the road side sipping tea and chatting with the yatai owner and customers.

She was pleased with her day's work. It had been a terrible blow to Tezuka, finding catastrophes after catastrophes falling on him. But she had learned never to underestimate her boys. Tezuka may look like a frail invalid now. But he was young and resilient. He would find his own feet again once he had time to get over the initial shock. He would analyse his situation and find his own solutions. She just have to keep an eye on him to make sure he took good care of himself and did not take on too much before he asked for help.

The next week she visited him, Tezuka was all ready working on parallel bars, walking up and down the length supported by his arms and an orderly. He proudly told her the nutritionist had finally agreed to switch him to solid food. She gave him a box of jelly deserts and chocolate cake that Sakuno made for him.

Her meeting with Tezuka's case worker was of less optimistic nature. He had traced Tezuka's next of kin to a second cousin from his mother's side in Niigata prefecture. But the meeting had not gone well. The cousin had no contact with Tezuka's mother and was a stranger to his family. He did not want the additional burden of caring for Tezuka and his medical needs without some kind of financial compensation.

Tezuka, with stubborn pride, refused any help from that side of the family. He would take care of himself, thank you very much. He did not want to be beholden to any one and told the case worker not to contact anyone else.

As it was, the case worker was at impasse. He would try to find a home for Tezuka, but with age and his condition ... it would not be easy to find a family willing or even able to care for his needs.

Ryuuzaki-sensei listened with tight-lipped gravity. It took her only a moment to decide to take over temporary guardianship over Tezuka. He was almost like a grandson to her. All her tennis boys were. Even that idiot Nanjirou, who was more like a baby brother to her. But Tezuka more than most. Not many people knew how to handle Tezuka. He was deceptively easy because he had always been a polite and well-disciplined child. He was an easy perfect student, till they rubbed him the wrong way. Then, they would find a stubborn independent uncompromising man.

If he felt that he was in the right and he was within his right, he would fearlessly tell anyone off, regardless of age and title. He could not be bribed to turn a blind eye. Nor can he be persuaded do something improper without good justification. Once, in the staff room, Tezuka's homeroom teacher had remarked that it was easier to move a mountain than to move Tezuka Kunimitsu. She was about to ask why when the First Year History teacher stumbled into the staffroom. His first words were:

"Who pissed off Tezuka Kunimitsu? Our Student President is standing outside trying to stare a hole through the door!"

The homeroom teacher jumped into a flurry. She hurriedly signed a pile of forms and handed them to Tezuka, shooing him off just before the lunch-bell rang. Rumour has it that the homeroom teacher was two weeks late and that lunch time was the deadline Tezuka gave her to get her part done. Tezuka had been tailing his teacher around all morning until she checked and counter-signed all the student consent forms for a class trip to his satisfaction.

It was inevitable that Tezuka had a formidable reputation among the teachers, especially student teachers. Most came out of their encounter with the boy wondering who was the teacher and who was the student. Tezuka had a disconcerting habit of making the teachers do their homework properly, rather than the other way around.

Tezuka's doctor in the German rehab institute was one of the few that understood him and treated him like an intelligent, responsible young adult. There was undeniable pride in her voice when she spoke of Tezuka to Ryuuzaki-sensei. She laughingly told Ryuuzaki-sensei that Hannah, Tezuka's coach, complained that Tezuka, a kid, was the only one who dared to criticise her drinking and laziness when none of the senior staff in the institute had dared to bring it up for the five years she had been there.

He arranged their training schedules, booked courts or gym time. And when she forgot or was too drunk to remember their appointment, he tracked her down to whichever bar she had holed herself in to drag her back to her job. She was a good coach for Tezuka, despite her failings. She had a unique way of understanding tennis and a sharp eye for physical habits that Tezuka needed. To that end, they both benefited, despite their strangely opposing characters.

Some adults might think titles gave them the right to dictate Tezuka's life. Give him directions or advice. Tezuka had too much independence for too long from his parents to allow himself to come under anyone's rule. He would not bow to authority he did not recognise. There in, lay the problem faced by the case worker and the adults that he tried to get to take Tezuka in. Once Tezuka had made up his mind, nothing except cold hard facts can make him change it. Stupid excuses would be met with a wall of polite deafness at best.

For his sake, Ryuuzaki decided to take legal guardianship over Tezuka. She would not wish Tezuka on any unsuspecting person. On the other hand, Tezuka should not have additional stress of dealing with ignorant 'guardians', fighting unnecessary battles that could easily be avoided. It was, to her, was mostly a matter of formality. Tezuka was capable of making all of the decision he needed to make. He simply needed an adult who understood him to approve and sign off the forms on his behalf. That, he only needed till he came of age, at 20. She could, at least, do that much for him.

Her discussion with his doctor was just as serious. Based on what Tezuka reported was his last memory, he had lost three months from the time of the accident. But his older memory from his childhood and his cognitive skills were unaffected. The doctor assured her that it was very good news. Tezuka came out of a traumatic brain injury with a mild case of retrograde amnesia. His speech, reading and writing were unaffected. His spatial and mathematical abilities were sound. And based on Ryuuzaki-sensei's report, Tezuka's personality appeared to be consistent with his pre-trauma state and unaltered. There had been cases of head injury causing severe change of personality that the patient became practically a stranger to his own family.

All he needed was for Ryuuzaki-sensei to help Tezuka fill in the missing months. He thought, in time, Tezuka could slowly regain those lost memory. It was easy for the doctor to say so. But it took some effort for Ryuuzaki-sensei to convince Tezuka that he had finished his exams and he had passed with flying colours. Then, she had wondered if it was the right thing to do. For it seemed to her eyes, Tezuka simply looked lost when he realised he need not study anymore. For studying was one thing he could do to keep his mind active and to keep himself from dwelling too much on his situation. But then, realistically speaking, there was nothing she could do, once Tezuka set his mind to something.

Two weeks after he woke up, Tezuka had graduated to a walker. The long corridors became his training track. He was often found pushing his walker all over the place, sometimes, helping the administration staff with delivering messages or small items. A week after that, he was waiting for her in the lobby. Before she could step inside, he was surely and undeniable, walking unaided out the door in front of her.

"Now?" he said by way of greeting. As if continuing a conversation they had 5 minutes ago, instead of several weeks.

"Idiot!" she grumbled at him proudly. "Where are you going?"

"Tamiyama Park, please."

* * *

**Notes : **  
**Yatai **- Japanese small, mobile food stall, typically sells ramen and oden. Some have hinged sides that folded out into tables.

**Oden **- Japanese winter dish consisting of several ingredients (e.g. egg, daikon, potato, tofu, konnyaku, and fish cake) stewed for hours in a light, soy-flavoured dashi broth.

**Age of majority**or legal age - threshold of adulthood as it is conceptualized in law. It is the moment when minors cease to legally be considered children and assume control over their persons, actions, and decisions, thereby terminating the legal control and legal responsibilities of their parents or guardian over them. In Japan, the age of majority is twenty.

Tamiyama Park - refer to Chapter 15.

**Responses to Reviewers:**  
**Aan:** Hope this chapter clarifies Tezuka's mental-time when he wakes up. Physically, he is 16, in middle October. Mentally, he is 15, in January the same year. He did not remember the farewell. His memory was up to New Year. It was Ryuuzaki-sensei that remembered the farewell.  
Yeah, Tezuka would look a little like Ryuuki in Sauinkoku, with the long brown hair and the hairpiece.


	33. Chapter 33

**Splintered Mirror  
Chapter 33**

"Kunimitsu-kun!" A middle-aged man stood up behind the counter to greet Tezuka and Ryuuzaki-sensei.

"Good morning, Hidaki-san," Tezuka replied with a bow.

"It's good to see you. I wondered when you would be coming by. I'm so sorry to hear about your loss."

Tezuka nodded in acknowledgement and introduced Ryuuzaki-sensei to the caretaker of the cemetery. Then, he helped himself to the paraphernalia he needed from the shelves. He left a small token in the donation box for the use of items. At the foot of the path, he took a wooden pail and filled the pail with water from a tap. He moved methodologically without hesitation. She knew he was familiar with the place and the rituals associated with it. She simply followed him with a bouquet of flowers and a bag of fruits she bought on the way.

It was a cool blustery day. The paths, neatly lined with stone monuments, were empty of visitors. Here and there, Ryuuzaki-sensei noted a bunch of flowers left by a recent visitor. Blocky grey granite loomed over the green mossy land like a miniature sky-scraper city. Some were surrounded by wood markers. She was right to make Tezuka wait. The narrow paths steadily climbed uphill with sections of steep stone staircases that would not be accessible to a wheelchair.

As it was, Tezuka was panting with the effort to walk that distance. Still, he gamely carried on, putting one foot in front of the other. Occasionally putting the pail of water down to rest his rest his arm or catch his breath. He looked annoyed and impatient with himself. She had a pretty good idea why. Tezuka, in his top form, could run laps up and down that hillside without breaking sweat.

She did not offer to help him. It was something he needed to do for himself. But she walked slowly and complained about her old knees and insisted on taking short breaks every few minutes. Stopping randomly to admire a tree or stone carving. He did not say anything, but the wry twist to his lips told her he knew her blatant ploy to spare his pride.

At long last, they reached the Tezuka family grave site. She did not know which one, but she knew they had reached it.

Tezuka stood in frozen rigidity. His eyes darted around the site, comparing what he saw before him to his memory of it. He marked changes to headstone itself. The bright red paint that had his grandfather's name had been scraped away, revealing lighter coloured stone underneath with flecks of red that had embedded themselves too deeply into the stone. There were two wooden sotoba standing behind the headstone. He dropped the pail heavily in the middle of the path.

After an eternity, he took a long shuddering breath and straightened up. Like a soldier preparing himself for the last charge into battle. Slowly, step by step, he approached the grave. Gently, almost a caress, he ran his fingers along the carven characters that were so familiar to him. It was not until then that the news he had heard and understood finally registered. Solidly and undeniably, it came to rest in his soul.

He collapsed to his knees, forehead pressed against the cool unforgiving stone. Deathly quiet. Chillingly alone. His whole frame shook, yet not a sound passed his lips. Only the slow deep sound of heavy breathing mingled with the sigh of rustling leaves.

Ryuuzaki-sensei pressed a warm hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze to remind him he was not completely alone. Then, she neatly arranged the items Tezuka had discarded by the side. Finally, she gave him another warm squeeze and left him to grief in peace.

Tezuka remained in his bent over position for a long time. When he finally sat up, supporting himself with both hands on a marbled ledge, he was still utterly silent. Only his breathing had evened out and became less laboured. His eyes were red and tears continued to stream down his cheeks. He rubbed them off with the heels of his hands. Then, slowly, he turned to the items Ryuuzaki-sensei had arranged for him.

The cemetery had never been a sad place for him until that day. Trips to the cemetery was always an exciting family outing since he was a toddler. He knew it was his grandmother's grave. But he had never met his grandmother. She died before he was born, when his father was still a teenager. Visiting the grave had always been a happy event for him. It was a special day trip with Ojiisan or a festival day with his family on Obon.

The bi-monthly visit to him was a special bonding time for him and his grandfather. For as long as he could remember, he always made the trip with Ojiisan. And his grandfather would take him through the rituals, step by step. From collecting flowers from their garden in spring to clipping boughs of evergreens in winter. From greeting the caretaker to collecting the items he would need for the ritualistic offerings. From the time he was too small to reach the pails hanging on the wall to time he was big and strong enough to carry that pail of water by himself.

He remembered clearing away the dust and petals and leaves with a short broom made of hemp and millet straws. Then, ladle by ladle, he scooped water from the pail to pour over the grave, washing away the dirt with water and bare hands. When he was done, he wiped the wet stones with a rag. Never had he done it with such reverence and solemnity.

When he was cleaning with his grandfather, his Ojiisan would be talking to his grandmother. Telling her news about the family as he worked. About his father, his mother and mostly, about Kunimitsu. How big and tall Kunimitsu had grown that year, how smart he was, how well he did in school, how many medals he had won in tennis, how gracefully he had performed on judo mat, how much he had learned about everything. Then, he would follow with some funny stories about what Kunimitsu did and said till they were both laughing.

Like the time his mother was annoyed and said his father had a black hole in his head where everything he had been told was simply sucked in and never heard from again. And for a week after that, Kunimitsu stared hard at his father's head and pawed through his hair trying to find the black hole and solve the mystery of the lost chores.

Or the time Kunimitsu tried to eat the rock hard kagami mochi that was used as a New Year decoration and broke a baby tooth. One of the judo students told him about the kagami biraki ritual, where the kagami mochi was traditionally broken and eaten on the second weekend of January. It was an important Shinto ritual that Jigoro Kano brought into Judo. It became a family favourite story and his father still teased him about crying for hours over a broken tooth and spoon-feeding him ice-cream to numb the pain and make him feel better.

He tried to tell news about himself, like his Ojiisan did. But somehow, the words stuck in his throat and the tears could not stop. The more he tried to think of the happy stories, the more he hurt inside. All that came out was a broken voiceless pleading.

_Please, I'm not ready. Please come back. Please don't leave me. Please don't take Okaasan away. Please bring Otousan back. It's my fault. Please don't punish Ojiisan. It's my fault. Take me. It is my fault. You can't have them. We can't make O-Bon visit properly if Ojiisan and Otousan and Okaasan are not here. Who will drive the car and make bad bitter tea like Otousan? Who will make delicious onigiri for Obaasan if Okaasan can't? Who will recite the Lotus sutra if Ojiisan is not here? I can't do any of that._

He arranged the offerings one at a time. The container of rice in the centre. The flowers on the left. The mandarin oranges on the right. The tea cups in a row at the front. He lighted three incense sticks and placed them in the rice. He recited the prayers from memory.

He was sure he was doing it wrong. His Ojiisan was the integral part of visiting the family grave, the _hakamairi_tradition. How could he do it the right way when Ojiisan was not there beside him, guiding him? Except now, Ojiisan would always be there, in front of him, waiting for him. Not coming with him and standing beside him. Not sharing an orange or apple with him on the way home. It was all wrong. It would always be wrong for as long as he lived.

He knelt before them, with his hands pressed together. The fragrance of agarwood and sandalwood wreathed around him. Both familiar and jarring. Jarring for the missing familiar presence he associated with these rituals and the smell and sight and sound around him. There was a large void inside him and around him that he never felt before. He closed his eyes. All he wanted to do was die. It was all a mistake. He wasn't suppose to survive. Not in this useless husk that had no future and no present.

'_Kunimitsu, it is going to be all right. You have to live. You are going to be fine. You know how to take care of yourself. Because, you are our Kunimitsu.'_

He looked up and turned around sharply. But his mother was not there. No sound but the wind. He shook his head. It was just his imagination.

'_Promise me, Kunimitsu. Promise me you will live.'_

He took out a sheaf of papers from his jacket. It was his offer letters and plane ticket. Outdated and useless. He may not remember anything of that night, but he knew why they were on the road in the car in the middle of the night. Why his big luggage bag was packed with light spring and summer clothes. He lighted a corner and watched the flame spread. Turning the paper brown, then black, then grey. Disintegrated into ashes that was his life.

"You have taken my family. You have taken my tennis. Now, you have taken my future. What more do you want from me?"

He did not know who he was talking to. He was not a religious person, even though he always paid the proper respect to whichever deity he came across. But his heart burned with anger at his loss. He needed a reason for this senseless tragedy. He needed to blame someone. Something.

But there was no one at fault. His father was a careful driver who always ensured his car was well-maintained. His mother packed everything perfectly for him. His grandfather protected him. He did not know how he knew that, but he knew it deeply. Instinctively.

There was no one to blame but himself. His ambition. His arrogant belief that he could be the top professional tennis player in the world. His tennis. His special school. His self-centred everything. Everything that happened was caused by him. It made perfect sense. He was the only one to survive. He was the only one left behind. He was the one punished. He had to suffer for his thoughtlessness. It was his karma.

"I am sorry. It was my fault. I am sorry. I have been selfish."

The wind blew on, cold and light. But there was no answer in it for him.

He pressed his forehead against the cold marble stone. Not thinking, not feeling. Nothing but dark void in his mind.

After an eternity, Tezuka straightened up and composed himself once more. There was always a practical part of himself that observed and weighed his actions. A part of him that could not bear to be idle and unproductive for long. That part of him that pointed out remorselessly that it was useless to continue moping and feeling sorry for himself. He should pull himself together and not worry his family unnecessarily. He pressed his palms together in prayer once more.

"Ojiisan, Otousan, Okaasan. Please don't worry about me. I will manage on my own. I know how to take care of myself. So please, be at ease. I will be all right. You have taught me all I need. I will manage just fine. I will visit again soon with better news."

He neatly collected and kept everything again, leaving only the flowers behind. Ryuuzaki-sensei, seeing he was preparing to leave, came back from her hiding place with a quick prayer of thanks to the dead family that hosted her and that provided her with a convenient seat while she waited. She paid her final respects to Tezuka's family and helped him bring everything back.

Tezuka was discharged in November, when he was deemed strong enough to care for himself. The nurses gave him fond farewell with motherly pats and home-baked goodies that he endured with good graces. The male staffs gave him bracing advice and well wishes.

The occupational therapist signed his discharge papers with aplomb ceremony and secretly confided in Ryuuzaki-sensei that he had never met anyone that went through his rehabilitation with such dedication and hard work. He had been prepared for 6 months or more of therapy and was inordinately proud and delightedly surprised Tezuka had surpassed his expectations and experience.

Ryuuzaki-sensei simply smiled and replied that it was because he had never met a 'Tezuka Kunimitsu' before.

* * *

**Notes:**

* Sotoba - a separate wooden board on a stand behind or next to the grave where the deceased name(s) is written.

* Kagami mochi (鏡餅?), literally mirror rice cake, is a traditional Japanese New Year decoration. It is traditionally broken and eaten in a Shinto ritual called kagami biraki (mirror opening) on the second Saturday or Sunday of January. This is an important ritual in Japanese martial arts dojos. It was first adopted into Japanese martial arts when Jigoro Kano, the founder of judo, adopted it in 1884, and since then the practice has spread to aikido, karate and jujutsu.

* Ryuuzaki's passivity - assume Ryuuzaki had some experience in grief counselling. She creates space and time for Tezuka to grief properly by delaying the visit and arranging it so that Tezuka has a whole day of privacy. (Change to Ryuuzaki's intervention from Tezuka going from his home to the cemetery - which has shorter time frame and higher urgency. If he was 'caught', it would cause interrupted grief-process where he had to suppress his grief to deal with immediate conflict.) He still suffers some form of interrupted grief due to practical issues of survival, e.g. physical injury and sudden status as nonentity. But Ryuuzaki's intervention allows Tezuka time to process his grief and gives him some measure of release (form of expression). Ref - Funeral is for the living, not the dead. Tezuka missed the funeral and therefore did not have the 'ritual' farewell to process his loss.

* Life means suffering is a Buddhist belief. Buddhism believes that one should reach for Nirvana, which is freedom from suffering. See the Four Noble Truths.

* Karma is actions which spring from the intention of an unenlightened being.

* Kübler-Ross model (Five Stages of Grief) **-** Terminally ill patient or grieving person usually goes through some or all stages, in the same or slightly different order. Usually, grief intervention seeks to bring the patient to the last stage, Acceptance, so that the patient could face death with dignity or for the survivor to go on with his life.

1. Denial — Denial is only a temporary defense. Last chapter - Tezuka during the first five days of awakening.

2. Anger — Recognizes that denial cannot continue. Fueled by guilt and frustration. Tezuka vs counsellor & case worker. Tezuka in rebellion, since he is not prone to show anger explicitly. He will channel it by doing what he wants, ignoring consideration for others, rules, authority. Cf. Tezuka vs Daimaru, Kite. Second stage - Tezuka vs himself, tie-in to survivor guilt and suppressed emotions. (To be revisited)

3. Bargaining — Hope to somehow postpone or reverse death. May or may not be applicable. More likely for terminally-ill patient than death-survivor. Plot point - On extreme end, faulty belief in 'exchange of life' that his death could bring the dead back to life could cause suicide tendency in survivor. Not likely with conscious Super-ego and Ego Tezuka. But could work with deeply buried subconscious Id.

4. Depression — Begins to understand the certainty of death. May become silent, refuse visitors, detached or withdrawn. Spend much of the time crying and grieving (not likely for Tezuka). This process allows the person to disconnect from things of love and affection. Not recommended to attempt to cheer up an individual who is in this stage. It is an important time for grieving that must be processed.

5. Acceptance — Begin to come to terms with mortality, or tragic event. Usually ends with a closure or resolution.

**Responses to Reviewers**

Aan : You guessed it. It's the 'milestone' first graveyard visit. Pair Puri is kinda like anipuri fillers. It's funny and filled with delicious tidbits. At the same time, it makes me facepalmed at the OOCness and the crack. I did enjoy the short story with Tezuka and his grandfather and Sanada with his grandfather though.

Grey Orul : Thank you. Please stay tuned for more.

Kamu : Thank you. Glad to know you're still with me.


	34. Chapter 34

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 34**

"Oi, Tezuka! Don't over do it. It's just your first day out of the hospital," yelled Ryuuzaki-sensei.

"I ... I'll help, Obaasan," said Sakuno and hurried forward to take the other end of the heavy luggage that Tezuka was starting to pull out of the boot.

"Thank you, Ryuuzaki," said Tezuka after they safely set the bulky item on its wheeled base. "I can manage from here."

"This way, Tezuka-senpai. Your room is here."

Ryuuzaki-sensei followed behind them, carrying Tezuka's tennis bag. She set the bag at the foot of the bed and beckoned Sakuno out with her. Then, she closed the door so Tezuka could unpack in privacy.

Sakuno looked nervously between the door and floor, awkwardly wondering how she should behave and what she should say in front of their new house guest. Tezuka-senpai looked as stern and intimidating as always. No matter what she heard from her grandmother, Tezuka-senpai had not lost an iota of his imposing aura. She still had a hard time stringing a sentence together in front of the ex-Student President.

"Sakuno! Stop day-dreaming. Go make some tea," said Ryuuzaki-sensei. Sakuno followed her to the kitchen.

Sakuno set the tea tray on the dining table carefully. Then, she sat down to watch her grandmother put the final touches on the cake. With a deft and sure hand, her grandmother piped rosettes and twirls on the cake. Finally she piped "Welcome _ Tezuka" in the middle. There was a little too much space next to "Welcome".

Her grandmother noticed it too. She simply smiled and said, "It is better not to say 'Welcome home', even if we want him to feel at home here. Tezuka is not ready for that yet."

Sakuno nodded understanding.

"Sakuno," said Ryuuzaki-sensei gravely as she set the piping bags aside and looked at her granddaughter steadily. "Keep Tezuka's business to yourself. Don't discuss him with anyone. Especially the Second Year and Third Year Tennis Club members. Not his accident nor his presence here. Understand?"

Sakuno nodded again, a little slower this time. She knew it meant keeping Tezuka-senpai secret from Momo-senpai and Kaidou-senpai. It was simple enough, since none of them ever had any reason to speak to her except to ask her about her grandmother. Still, she did not understand the need for secrecy.

Ryuuzaki-sensei looked out the kitchen door, towards the bedroom where Tezuka still holed himself. "It is not from me. It is his request." She shook her head at the antics of children trying to play at being adult.

It was November and there was a chill in the air. With it, came the sense of urgency like an old familiar friend. It was time to hunker down and study for exams. It was a stressful time for students and teachers alike. Her homeroom students were in Third Year this year. It meant she would also be busy helping them prepare for their High School entrance exams and giving career guidance to her students and writing up their final academic reports and recommendation letters.

It was a busy time of the year. She could understand Tezuka's thinking even if she disagreed with him.

"Tezuka, you are going to be discharged soon. I am sure the boys would want to visit before you leave," said Ryuuzaki-sensei while they were discussing his plans.

Tezuka looked surprised. Then, he shook his head once. "No. Don't say anything."

"Come now, Tezuka. They have missed you. I am sure they would like the opportunity to see you while they can. If not here, then my house is fine too."

Tezuka shook his head again. "I do not wish to see them. We have said our farewells. There is nothing more I have to say to them."

"I'm sure they have something to say to you."

"No. It is better if they remem- There is no need to tell them. We have parted ways and that is the end of it. It is exam time. There is not need to distract them over something that cannot be changed."

"Tezuka ..."

"I have made up my mind, Ryuuzaki-sensei. I have nothing left to say to anyone. I have said and done all I can do for them. I don't need them to fret over things that cannot be changed." He did not say that he did not want to see the guilt or regret or pity that comes with such a reunion.

Guilt that the team did not win the Nationals this year, but lost it to Shitenhouji and Fudoumine. Rikkaidai had internal problems of their own after the Big Three graduated. Despite Yanagi and Sanada's efforts, Kirihara was not exactly leadership-quality material, nor did he have the inclination for it. But he seemed to be heading the right way last he remembered. Whatever happened within Rikkaidai, Ryuuzaki-sensei chose not to tell him, and he did not ask.

Seigaku had their own internal problems. Not the least, Tezuka and Inui left very large shoes for their juniors to fill. There simply wasn't anyone with Inui's tenacity and perseverance in research, analysis and development. There wasn't anyone like Tezuka who had vision, as well as the deep understanding of human nature to nurture them. Nor was there anyone with Tezuka's uncompromising standards and competence. The combination of members, from Fuji to Kawamura, were unique. Once in a lifetime gathering of individuals who were greater than the sum of its parts.

He did not want to see their disappointment of what they thought Tezuka expected from them. That they should have defended the champion's title that Tezuka had won for them. He knew that, even before they won the Tokyo Prefecture championship. Seigaku had the best shot that year. The next year, in Momoshiro and Kaidou's time, the best team in Tokyo would probably be Fudoumine or Hyoutei. No, he would have been proud if they did maintain the championship, but he did not expect it.

He did not expect them to win. That was never his message. He wanted them to remember the camaraderie, the teamwork, the trust and friendship they had built. Pushing each other to their limits and beyond. The legacy he wanted was a team that built each other up, not tear each other down. Not petty jealousy and envy, unhealthy competitiveness and egotism. Never again would he allow such spitefulness he found in his First Year tarnish Seigaku's name. In that, he thought, with some measure of pride, he had had moderate success.

His job was done. He did not want to hear their regrets over the loss of potential in Tezuka and the might-have-beens and the unfairness of it all. He did not want to see the pity in their eyes for his loss and his fall from the pedestal that they had placed him. There was no fair or unfairness in life. It just is.

"It is unproductive to dwell in the past." Tezuka stared intently at Ryuuzaki-sensei. "We must live in the present and move on to whatever future we make for ourselves. I wish to let them move on without unnecessary baggage from me," he said.

"I still think you are wrong to think that way. These boys ... they are tougher than you think."

Tezuka did not say anything. He simply looked at her steadily and stonily, arms crossed in determination.

Ryuuzaki-sensei sighed. "You must be back to normal if you can be that stubborn and argumentative. Fine, fine. It's your choice. It does not mean I agree with you." She emphasised her point with a rolled-up piece of paper and a light tap to his knuckles. "Baka! Don't try to grow up too fast."

She understood him even if she disagreed. She knew the other boys had seen Tezuka as an inspiration and a symbol of pride and glory. With Tezuka's triumph still intact in their minds, they can aspire to greater heights. They would look up to him and try to emulate him and see a future full of possibilities.

These last years of their school-life were the most critical period of their life. It would set the stage for what they will become in the future. The time when they still see their hopes and dreams as a possibility, rather than a string of regretful might-have-beens. If they saw him now, all that might change.

Tezuka's message was never about winning and glory and trophies. His message was about resilience and determination. To stand up and hold fast to his own self, whatever life threw at him, despite what everyone else said or did. Time and again, he had shown them. There would always be obstacles and walls, be it in tennis or in life. Sometimes man-made, mostly self-made, and occasionally accidental or circumstantial. Time and again, he had shown them how these obstacles and disasters can be overcome without losing himself. There is always a way. The impossible can be possible.

Life had given him a bigger obstacle than he was ready for. He needed time and space to prove to himself that he could still practice what he preached.

She understood him even if she disagreed with him. And so, she did as he asked of her. After he had picked himself up and regained his confidence in his own self-efficacy, she will broach the subject again. But Tezuka never gave her the opportunity.

The next day, he left the house early in the morning, coming home in the late evening. She did not know what he was up to. He refused to tell her. It went on for many days, till she got an unexpected call from Ban-jii to meet at a nearby tennis club.

"Now, there's a face I have not expected to see so soon," said Banda Mikiya as he sat down at Ryuuzaki-sensei's table.

Ryuuzaki-sensei followed his gaze, through the darkened glass wall of the café, across the tennis courts, past the fences, to just outside the club compound.

"He's been coming around four, five days in a row now. That Tezuka Kunimitsu ..."

"Tezuka ..." Ryuuzaki-sensei frowned. Even from that distance, she could see his tense posture. He was turned slightly away from the tennis courts, as if nonchalantly watching the traffic. But she knew, in the corner of his eye, he was watching the tennis games being played out intently, seemingly hypnotised by it against his will. His hands clenched and unclenched, belying his apathetic demeanour.

"He seems to be struggling with himself, that boy." Ban-jii drew Ryuuzaki-sensei's attention back into the room. "He can't seem to decide whether to come in, or not. That is not the Tezuka Kunimitsu I knew." When Ryuuzaki-sensei did not contradict him, he continued, "What happened to him? What is he doing in Japan?"

Ryuuzaki-sensei sighed. "I can't tell you. It's personal. Leave him be."

They watched Tezuka hesitated for an hour or so, before he turned abruptly. He hurried across the road and disappeared around the corner.

"I wonder if I'll see him again tomorrow." The old man smiled affably at Ryuuzaki-sensei.

"Thanks for telling me, Ban-jii." she said, getting up to follow Tezuka.

"He is one of yours, Ryuuzaki-sensei," said Ban-jii. "He was always too strong, that boy."

Though she knew Ban-jii did not say it explicitly, she knew he was right. Tezuka had always been a strong individual. The problem, as Ban-jii once half-jokingly tried to warn her, was that Tezuka was all ready too strong. Back then, she had deliberately interpreted his words as referring to Tezuka's tennis skills. And now, he was warning her again. Not that Tezuka was particularly strong physically. But mentally and personally, Tezuka was simply too strong for his own good. He did not know how to be anything else.

Tezuka had all ready disappeared by the time she got to the gate. But something else caught her attention. Just outside the gate, a large sign said, 'Wanted: Tennis coach for beginner class.'

Sakuno was standing still as a stone at the side of the house. In the backyard, with his back to her, Tezuka-senpai had a basket of tennis balls with him. He had his tennis racquet on his right hand. His left held a ball, somewhat awkwardly. He leaned forward, in a familiar posture that Sakuno had seen too many times in her life, both from her grandmother and various students under her when they served the ball that opened a tennis game.

Tezuka-senpai rose somewhat jerkily, then leaned back. His left hand rose with his shoulders. The ball left his hand in a clumsy weak toss, dropping to the ground before his right hand could complete the swing. He watched the ball roll away incredulously. Then, he blinked and shook his head. He picked up another ball. Another awkward toss, followed by an uncoordinated and mistimed swing. The third time, he tried lifting his left hand higher, but failed to toss the ball. Instead, he dropped the racquet and clutched his upper arm, bending double in pain.

She wanted to run to him, but could not. She was struck dumb and frozen, an unwitting witness to his struggles. For despite his obvious pain, not a sound escaped his lips. And so, it seemed, by sheer empathy, not a sound could escape her.

After an eternity in the frozen tableau, though it was probably closer to a minute or two in reality, Tezuka-senpai's harsh breathing changed to a longer deeper rhythm. Wrestling with the involuntary spasms, forcing his pain under control once more, one long drawn breath at a time. He slowly massaged his left arm, from his shoulder down to his wrist. Over and over, till his fingers stopped that unnatural twitching. Only then, did he get back on his feet, picking up another ball from the basket.

Sakuno wanted to yell at him to stop hurting himself, but the spell remained unbroken. Her unspoken words choked up her throat.

Tezuka-senpai attempted another 20 to 30 services, without success. Many left him doubled up with pain for too long moments. His brows furrowed in frustration as he stared at the half-empty basket.

He dropped the racquet to pick up a ball right-handed. The toss was much smoother, but lacking the power and control she had seen in him before. He bent down to pick up his racquet left-handed, but came up empty. He bent down to try once more, clutching at grass. His fingers would not close around the handle. He wrapped his right hand around his left fingers, forcing each digit to curl around the handle.

The racquet remained steady when he held it one hand over the other. But the moment he removed his right hand to pick up a ball, his fingers opened against his volition and the racquet fell to the ground. Over and over again, he tried. From massaging his palm, pulling his fingers, bending them this way and that ... all to no avail. He dropped down to his knees and shook his head in frustration.

"That won't work either," he said softly to himself with a thin bitter curl to his lips. It was the first time he broke the silence. He slumped down, unconsciously plucking at the strings, caressing the familiar curves. It was both the source of his hope and despair.

He did his best to shrug off his negativity and put aside his racquet. With the remaining balls, he tried another routine, one he should be doing with the help of someone else. But, familiar as he was with tennis, he thought he could manage it by himself with the help of a good sturdy wall. He picked a ball up, threw it at the back wall right-handed, then tried to catch it as it bounced back. Something any 10-year-old kid could do with ease. Whether it was with his right or left hand or both, he did not seem to be able to catch very well. He had more misses than hits.

"Hand-eye coordination or reflex?" he muttered to himself. Then, went back to throwing and failing to catch the rebounds, interspersed with the occasional 'oomph' as the ball hit him unexpectedly. Still he went on, oblivious to the world around him, trying to cope with body parts that did not co-operate or too slow or somehow appear where they were not supposed to, and not where they were supposed to be.

"Oh! Tezuka is working on his physiotherapy program." Ryuuzaki-sensei was suddenly standing next to Sakuno. Her voice shattered the silent enchantment around Sakuno.

"No!"

Ryuuzaki-sensei turned to look at Sakuno, her face turning from puzzlement to concern. "Sakuno, why are you crying?"

Sakuno stared at her owlishly, as if she did not understand the question. "Am I?"

She wiped her cheeks with her hands, frowning at the wetness. Softly, in a daze, she said, "Obaa-chan, why can't Tezuka-senpai cry for himself? It is painful to watch him. Because ... because he won't cry ... I cried for him." She covered her mouth in horror. She did not know why she said that. But somehow ... somehow, she knew it was the truth.

"Sakuno ..."

But Sakuno had ran back to the house in embarrassment.

* * *

**Note:**

One of the physiotherapy for recovering coma patients involves one person throwing a ball at the patient while he tries to catch it. It is to train the brain to recognise or rebuild/repair the wiring to limbs. Aside from that, it provides flexibility training, precision and muscle building.

Ryuuzaki Sumire's hobby is making cakes.

**Responses to Reviews:**

Thank you everyone who had stuck to this story for so long. Hope you enjoy the new chapter, though it is rather painful to read. Sorry for the long break. I've been moving around. Three different countries in three months. It has been long and exhausting.

Aan: I'm not surprised you have guessed this chapter. I just hoped there is still enough 'new' angle and details on it to still be interesting and not a repetition of the earlier chapter.

geecee : Come back soon. Though you probably didn't miss much at the pace I'm going.

Kamu: Yes, will be in Ryuuzaki-sensei's flashback arc for a while.

Grey Orul : Thank you. He was getting back on his feet in the last chapter, but it would still be a long road. This is just the beginning.

Karupin22 : Thanks! Writing this is a lot of work, but it has also been a pleasure.

Michiiyu : Thank you. I do my best to keep Tezuka as in-character as possible. I think I just can't do smut. I tried ... but this story and 'Love is like Tennis' is just about as close to that as I could get. I leave the juicy details to my esteemed readers' imagination. :D


	35. Chapter 35

**Splintered Mirror **

**Chapter 35**

Two weeks after his discharge from rehabilitation hospital, Tezuka moved out of Ryuuzaki residence. He insisted on supporting himself, finding odd jobs to make ends meet.

She knew that his disability and the long rehabilitation when he was completely dependant on the nurses for even the simplest tasks had taken a personal psychological toll on him. Knowing that Tezuka was trying to re-establish his sense of self and independence, Ryuuzaki-sensei allowed him to do as he wished. Even so, she kept an eye on him whenever she could.

She pulled favours from Inoue. Surely Pro Tennis Monthly could use someone like Tezuka. While Tezuka could no longer play tennis, he had experience and intimate knowledge of the game. Yet, Tezuka did not bite. He declined Inoue's offer.

But the offer to write for the magazine was not wasted. The offer seemed to gave Tezuka the inspiration to apply to other departments and other publishing houses. He started freelancing and that was how Ryuuzaki-sensei knew he was keeping his promise to her to continue his studies, even if he refused to go back to school.

His articles or essays would touch on topics for Third Year Junior High or First Year Senior High. Most of those essays ended up as teaching materials or revision notes at cram schools. He was popular enough among student readers that he had enough work to support himself.

Tezuka's case worker was initially sceptical about Tezuka's situation. Neither was he satisfied with Ryuuzaki-sensei as his guardian. But a few 'surprise' visits later, even he could not argue with Ryuuzaki-sensei's confidence in Tezuka. His living arrangement may be minimal, but it was neat and clean. He was in good health. He was struggling, but he was undoubtedly capable of taking care of his daily needs.

So, as they ushered in a new year, Ryuuzaki-sensei was relieved that there were no more talk of forcing Tezuka onto some distant relatives he did not want. His case was accepted and the case file went to another social worker who would check up on him quarterly.

When Tezuka disappeared suddenly, the social worker helped Ryuuzaki-sensei filed a missing person report. By then, Tezuka's trail had gone cold and despite her best effort, he disappeared without a trace. Even when others had brought up the possibility of suicide, which was not unusual for someone in Tezuka's situation and given the circumstantial evidences, she refused to believe that. She knew Tezuka was alive, even if she did not know where.

Yuriko nodded as Ryuuzaki-sensei brought her accounts to an end. She was glad to have gained Kunimitsu's prior consent for Ryuuzaki-sensei to tell her everything she knew about Tezuka's case. His willingness to disclose his entire case to Ryuuzaki-sensei made sense now. Kunimitsu placed much respect and trust in the teacher, who was also his guardian. Unlike Inui and Atobe, Ryuuzaki-sensei had a deeper understanding of Tezuka than any of his peers.

As gently as she could, she explained Tezuka's conditions and his current progress. She knew Ryuuzaki-sensei found all of it hard to believe. It was so far-fetched from the Tezuka Kunimitsu she knew. Yet, Yuriko believed, Ryuuzaki-sensei could help him in ways he would not allow others to do so.

Sanada frowned in frustration. While Ryuuzaki-sensei filled some of the missing gap, there were still too many unanswered questions. What had caused Tezuka's disappearance? When was it? At least the coach had narrowed the window to sometime between April and May. But if a police report had been filed, why did it not show up when Sanada searched for it? He excused himself quickly to follow up on his own investigations. He did not bother to contact Atobe. He knew Yuriko would update Atobe on all that happened that day.

After sending an orderly to fetch Tezuka, Yuriko escorted Ryuuzaki-sensei to the safe room. The teacher had given her more food for thought than she had expected. Her account of Tezuka Kunimitsu's post-recovery was enlightening and disturbing. Enlightening, for those were the period of time that Kunimitsu could not remember and Tezuka refused to speak of.

Disturbing for she had expected Tezuka Kunimitsu's dissociative identity disorder had stemmed from that tragic and traumatic car accident and its aftermath. From Ryuuzaki-sensei's accounts, it appeared that Tezuka Kunimitsu was in the process of recovery and coping well with his circumstances. It did not point to a dysfunctional or deterioration of his cognitive and emotional well-being. It hinted at a second traumatic event that precipitated the crisis. Something that, as much as she disliked it, she had to admit had to do with Shiroi's timeline.

Atobe and Sanada had hinted at it. Vaguely and reluctantly. She knew what they guessed at, based on Shiroi's accounts. As much both young men tried to act cool and mature, they were still naïve boys at heart. Far removed for the base horrors and dark depravity that the human race was capable of.

Contrary to what they thought they knew, she actually knew most of what happened in Shiroi's life. Despite his reticence to talk about Tezuka and Kunimitsu, Shiroi was very co-operative when it came to his own life. He held nothing back. Sometimes she secretly hoped he would. But it was, she had to admit, a true test of her own training as counsellor and therapist: to be able to sit through Shiroi's own story without judgement. She listened with due regard, keeping her emotions in check. She knew, if Shiroi thought that his revelations somehow distressed or angered her, he would be less open with her.

Because of her easy acceptance, Shiroi became less guarded and shared details of his life, as much as he remembered. Details that Yuriko knew he held back from Atobe, simply because he knew Atobe did not like them. He may look innocent and child-like, but Shiroi was smarter and subtler than most people give him credit for.

Shiroi did not see anything wrong with his life as a courtesan. He took great pride in his accomplishments. His feelings were open and happy. He was respected and greatly sought-after professionally. Personally, he had strong attachment to his mentor and cohorts. While it was hard work, he was also pampered and cared for. His position as a high-ranked courtesan accorded him privileges that most people would not get from their career. If one could ignore the fact that Shiroi was prized rare bird in a gilded aviary.

A velvet-lined golden cage was still a cage to a normal person. But Shiroi was not normal. While both Tezuka and Kunimitsu were not exactly normal, they were, relatively speaking, socially more normal than Shiroi. With Tezuka's rigid sense of self and Kunimitsu's high personal ethics, she could see where their personal beliefs and values would clash horribly. It was, very likely, a crisis that caused clashes between the three alters.

While all these were running through her mind, she made Ryuuzaki-sensei comfortable and fixed a pot of green tea.

In a few short minutes, the orderly returned. "Shiroi," he announced, ushering Shiroi into the room.

"Tezuka -" Ryuuzaki-sensei stood up and reached for him.

Shiroi immediately retreated, perplexing her with his reaction. Shiroi must not be touched by a woman. He looked in alarm at Ryuuzaki-sensei before looking at Yuriko. Seeing Yuriko calm, but attentive, he took some reassurance from her to gulp down his instinct to run. He bowed low and polite to the stranger. "It is Shiroi."

Ryuuzaki-sensei paused a moment. It was uncanny. There was Tezuka in front of her, yet not Tezuka. The voice was different, not that it wasn't Tezuka's voice. But it was Tezuka's voice in a lighter and higher register than his normal one. A more child-like one, such as when Tezuka was in his First Year, before his voice broke.

He was polite, just as Tezuka was. But when Tezuka bowed to her in respect or gratitude, there was an attitude of self-assurance, familiarity and, if she was completely honest with herself, a trace of arrogance to his posture. Even when he was apologising for a perceived lack or wrong. Tezuka also had a tendency to use the bow to excuse himself before he was excused. It flustered the more authoritarian and domineering teachers when he cut short conversations that way, overturning the balance of power between student and teacher.

The principal had once remarked that Tezuka used politeness and courtesy as aggressively and assertively as others had used swear words and rudeness. The boy was formidable for turning the art of social propriety into a form of attack. That earned him ten-folds more respect that the school-yard bully. Then, he laughed and said, 'Tezuka-kun can deliver an insult or an order with nothing but please and thank you.' He was right.

Yet, the person before her was completely different. Shiroi's posture spoke of uncertainty, servility and humility. As if he was waiting for instructions or pronouncement of doom. Just as Tezuka's sense of Self was very present even when he was being silent, Shiroi's self was very absent. Like a very noticeable void. Yuriko-sensei had warned her about Tezuka's triple personalities, but seeing it with her own eyes … Nothing could have prepared her for that.

Yuriko strode forward and smiled at Shiroi. "If you don't mind, Shiroi, Ryuuzaki-sensei would like to speak to Kunimitsu."

"Someone that Kunimitsu knows?"

"Yes."

Shiroi lowered his head. "Kunimitsu is sad. He is hiding in the Island. Tezuka said not to disturb him."

Ryuuzaki-sensei looked at Yuriko for the explanation.

"Shiroi sees their inner world as landscapes. The Island is a place in his mind that he could not reach. I would say, symbolic of isolation. I am not sure if Tezuka experiences the same landscapes. He never told me."

"Tezuka …"

"Tezuka is the third alter. The first one you met in the garden was Kunimitsu. If you don't mind, I would like to introduce you to Tezuka-san. I think you may help him more than Kunimitsu right now."

She suspected that Tezuka harboured the memories that Ryuuzaki-sensei had just revealed to her. The rehabilitation and post-recovery that Kunimitsu did not remember. She turned back to Shiroi. "Shiroi, could we speak to Tezuka, please?"

"Shiroi will ask him." He nodded and his eyes hardened into displeasure.

"Tezuka-san," said Yuriko, "this is Ryuuzaki-sensei."

"I know who she is," said Tezuka curtly. He bowed politely to Ryuuzaki-sensei. It was all there: arrogance, pride, passion, and barely-reined temper.

"Tezuka."

"Sensei." Tezuka stepped forward to face Ryuuzaki-sensei directly, his body language obviously excluding Yuriko. "I am sorry for causing you trouble and worry." He looked down contritely, as if he could not bear to face her.

Ryuuzaki-sensei looked at the Tezuka that was not quite Tezuka. His position was asserting that Yuriko had no control over him. But there was an exhaustion and haunted look to his eyes. She reached out to sweep the messy fringe from his forehead, following the stroke with a gentle caress down his cheek to lift up his chin.

Yuriko and the orderly tensed, ready for one of Tezuka's famous explosions. But he did not protest to the physical contact. He stood perfectly still and looked up at her meekly.

Ryuuzaki-sensei looked deeply into his dark brown eyes. She knew this Tezuka. As Banji had warned her. He was too strong, yet so vulnerable. "My boy. Why did you not come to me?"

Tezuka turned his head and closed his eyes, breaking their tenuous physical link. "I could not. Then, it was safer that I did not. I had not wanted him to contact Sensei."

"The other you? Kunimitsu?"

"Aa."

Yuriko, seeing Tezuka was reluctant to disclose anything in her presence, took herself and the orderly out.

Ryuuzaki-sensei took a seat at the couch, patting the space beside her. "Come, sit down. I am too old to be standing around so long."

Tezuka went obediently to her.

After he had settled himself, she took up the line of questioning again. "Were you in some kind of trouble?"

He nodded.

"Don't you think I might have been able to help you?"

He shook his head. "It is over now. Please don't worry about it."

"You don't want to talk about it," she translated. "It's fine. You don't have to tell me. But I want you to know that you could come to me. You are my responsibility."

"Sensei …" He hung his head in shame. The memory invoked obviously pained him.

"Tezuka," she laid a warm hand on his shoulder. "You are my responsibility. But you are not a burden. You never were."

Tezuka looked up at her in shock.

After all these years, she knew how he thinks and understood him more than he guessed. Tezuka had always appeared so self-contained and more mature than his age. But inside, he was still a boy with a boy's self-doubt, fiery passion and short temper. He just hid it better than most people. "I know it is hard, and well justified. But could you at least have a little faith in your elders? I know we don't always come through for you. But … there are still people here that cares about you."

"Sorry, Sensei. I am sorry."

Ryuuzaki-sensei frowned. Something she said had triggered a sore spot. His family? The incompetent bungling of meaningful caretakers? A betrayal? Tezuka looked like he was close to tears, holding himself back through sheer willpower. He had been wounded in some way she could not fathom. The surge of anger at that thought surprised her.

"I'm sorry. I've failed … can't …"

That haunted eyes full of pain. The fatigue of living with something he could not accept. The stress of holding back the dam to keep it from breaking must have been overwhelming. It was showing cracks, but he was still holding it back.

"Tezuka, you remember once, I told you it is all right to grief for your family when you need to …" She enfolded him in her arms and cradled him like a lost child. "I forgot to tell you... once a while, it is all right to mourn for yourself."

The dam broke. Years of repressed emotion flooded through him. Anger, outrage, bitter disappointment, shame, frustration, loneliness, terror, helplessness, despair … The overwhelming torrent that he had kept hidden. Protected from both Kunimitsu and Shiroi, for the sake of Kunimitsu's sanity and Shiroi's survival.

For the first time in his life, Tezuka cried for himself.

* * *

Sorry, I am dropping hints but still being ambiguous. Tezuka is a tough nut to crack and had been the least co-operative character to write. I really missed that whole future chapter I wrote and lost on Notefish. But that chapter had been fodder for the hints in this one. Sigh … that means I have to rewrite, rewrite. (T.T)

**Note:**

Refer to Tezuka's challenging 'Onegai-shimasu' to the high school coach in Mountain Training OVA.

Psychotherapeutic relationship is a special relationship between therapist and client. It is based on client's trust and therapist's acceptance. An important aspect of the relationship is the therapist's ability to accept and respect the client without prejudice or judgement.

While most approaches try ideally to reach an egalitarian (equal power) position, it is obvious that a psychotherapeutic relationship is not one. The therapist is in a position of power to the client. (Hence Tezuka kept resisting Yuriko)

Professional ethics for psychotherapists – respect and protect the client, including the confidentiality of the client and all the issues discussed in the session (except when there is harm to client or other party). Any disclosures require the client's consent.

In rape or abuse victims, the therapist chosen/referred to is usually the opposite sex of the rapist/abuser. (Yuriko being female, Shiroi's Master being male.)

* * *

**Responses to Reviews:**

First, I'd like to say 'Thank you' to all the silent readers for the Favs and Alerts.

FYI, Pair Puri 9 (Inui & Chitose) has a short story on Chitose stalking Tezuka. OMG! Shirtless Tezuka! *nosebleeds*

**geecee**: Thanks for the heads up. I'm so happy you're still following this fic.

**karupin22**: Thanks! I don't normally like Sakuno either. But I needed Ryuuzaki-sensei's involvement and Sakuno lived with her. Also, she was an important 'emotional outlet' for Tezuka. Well, I'm not sure when Atobe will reappear. But next chapter will be Sanada-centric. I feel bad I've been neglecting him for a while now.

**Aan**: Yes, I finally updated. Sorry for the long wait. It's fitting that you should mention toddler. Long coma patients usually woke up with a physical body that had deteriorated - loss of physical functions, stiff joints, stiff and weak muscles, healed over injuries that they never got around to get used to. The recovery process is long and difficult. Often, they have to relearn how to walk, eat, move again - like a baby.

No, I don't plan on Banji having significant roles. He's just a connector. In canon, he was interested in Tezuka and hanged out in tennis courts outside his school, unlike Ryuuzaki.

Thank you! Heart-breaking was what I aimed for. So glad it worked.


	36. Chapter 36

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 36**

Ryuuzaki-sensei inhaled the soothing fragrance of tea a moment before looking at Tezuka's psychotherapist sitting on her right. Yuriko's office did not have a couch, debunking the myth of a shrink's common tool of trade. She could see a door leading to the inner office where a normal office desk and file cabinets were located.

The outer office area was simply furnished with two leather armchairs at ninety degrees angle from each other and a low small table. Ryuuzaki-sensei nodded to herself. She was aware of some of these non-verbal arrangements. She was used to the usual teacher-student consultation arrangement, two chairs facing each other across the desk. She had heard that psychologists preferred the angled arrangement, to avoid a face-to-face confrontational position.

She set her tea cup down and turned to look at Yuriko. "Tezuka does not trust you."

Yuriko nodded at her opening statement. "He is reacting to me as if I was someone else. A transference. But he had not been forthcoming about who or what is causing the transference."

"Doesn't it get in the way of your work?"

"No. It is expected in my line of work. Normally, it is an angle that I can make use of. But Tezuka have very strong resistance to my efforts."

"Stubborn, you mean."

"I was hoping you could shed some light as to what might have caused his transference. I had done some hypnotherapy with Kunimitsu. So far, his childhood seemed normal and healthy. Is there anything in the past that might cause Tezuka to distrust a doctor? Or someone in authority?"

"Tezuka? No. Tezuka was a good, respectful young man."

"So he has no problem with authority, rules and regulations?"

"If you're asking me if Tezuka was ever defiant or disrespectful in school – No. He was a model student. Good grades, exemplary behaviour."

"I see. It is consistent with what I hear from Kunimitsu." Yuriko could not hide the slight disappointment in her voice.

Ryuuzaki-sensei sighed. "There is something most people did not understand about Tezuka Kunimitsu. Perhaps, that is why you are not asking me the right question."

"Hmm?"

"Tezuka did not rebel nor disobey authority. It is not unusual for children, at certain stage of their development to push the limits imposed on them by adults and rules. I worked with teenage kids most of my life, I am well acquainted with it. It is a natural part of growing up, asserting their blossoming independence."

"But Tezuka was different?"

"No, Tezuka was no different. Tezuka asserted his independence most strongly. What was different, was his upbringing. He was given independence by his family. He was expected to bear it responsibly. He did not have to fight or demand for it. He behaved as he already had that independence. And the most interesting thing happened. He got it implicitly, without struggle. But saying that Tezuka was always respectful and obedient to authority is not exactly right. Rather, Tezuka was indifferent to positions of authority. A title, a position, age did not matter to him. What mattered was competence. Tezuka respected skill, principles, experience and competence."

"He thinks I'm incompetent?"

"You said it was a transference."

"Ah! He distrusts me because someone in the past gave him a reason for distrust. A counsellor or doctor? Or a woman?"

"Or simply, someone who seemed to have authority over Tezuka and thought that he knew what was best without consulting him."

"Like the case-worker that tried to find foster home for Tezuka."

"Yes. But I believe my involvement had resolved their differences and there is no reason for him to carry a grudge. No. There is someone else."

"Since his displacement of feelings towards me is of distrust and control, someone must have given a reason for him to feel that way."

"Someone betrayed trust or authority over Tezuka."

"Who?"

"I don't know. I tried to get him to tell me this morning, but he is still unwilling to talk about it."

"Thank you, Ryuuzaki-sensei. You have been a great help."

"There is something else." Ryuuzaki-sensei picked up her teacup again, trying to order her mind. "Tezuka is having problems reconciling his current situation."

_"Tezuka, why are you fighting against Dr. Yuriko? It is her job to help you. But only if you let her. Tell me, what do you think of her? I will do my best to take you out of her care if she is not what you want."_

_Tezuka looked down at his hands. "It's not that."_

_"Do you think she is not helping?"_

_"No. I know … I mean, if I think about it, I know she is helping, trying to help. But she …she is hurting Kunimitsu and Shiroi. She is making them worse. Kunimitsu is sad and hiding. And he won't let me near. I can't take away his pain if he won't let me. Shiroi is confused and lost. Shiroi is dying. Shiroi is scared, so desperately scared. I … I promised he would live. But she is killing Shiroi. But I can't protect him. I can't save him. I should but I shouldn't. I promised. I was supposed to protect them. But … it's all wrong!"_

Yuriko nodded thoughtfully. "Tezuka is the protector. He shields both Shiroi and Kunimitsu from truths that hurt them. But once the therapy started, the truth will come out. He knew it will hurt Kunimitsu and dissolve all three of them. Shiroi was not the only one dying. To Tezuka, all of them will die. But it was Shiroi that he promised life. He knew all this was necessary for them to heal. But it conflicted with his self-appointed role. Intellectually, he knew he had to let it happen. But instinctively, he can't."

Yuriko looked sadly at her notes. "He knew I am here to help them. But he can't help being who he is. His passive aggressiveness towards me is just another sign of his conflict. He wants help, but he can't let me help him."

Ryuuzaki-sensei nodded. Now that she brought Tezuka's perspective to his therapist's attention, she could do something about it.

"Ryuuzaki-sensei, I would like to try something, if you have time today. Kunimitsu had been inactive for too long. Five days of hiding, licking his wounds is too much. I am worried about him. When we finally managed to bring Kunimitsu forward, he became more present and dominant. Shiroi and Kunimitsu became something of co-host, taking turns. Now that Kunimitsu had withdrawn, Shiroi is again left to take over by himself."

"What do you intend to do then?"

"I am going to ask both Shiroi and Tezuka to withdraw. Push Kunimitsu out. I need to deal with his grief quickly. And it would help if he knows you are just outside for emotional support."

Ryuuzaki-sensei nodded her assent.

In a few minutes, Yuriko met up once more with Shiroi, outlining her plan and purpose. Then, she moved on to Tezuka. There was something she needed to work out with Tezuka.

"Tezuka-san," she said gently, "let's talk about Kunimitsu for a moment. Why do you feel you need to protect Kunimitsu? Against what?"

Tezuka looked annoyed at Yuriko. It was not something he wanted to answer.

"Tell me, Tezuka-san."

"Kunimitsu cannot deal with this. It hurts him too much."

"Deal with what?"

"The … the … the truth."

There. At last, Tezuka had admitted it. "Since when had Tezuka Kunimitsu ever run away from the truth?" she pressed him. "Is Kunimitsu that weak?"

"It is not his fault! Why must you keep hurting him? He can't … it's too much." He wanted to push her away.

"Tezuka-san," Yuriko held Tezuka's eyes firmly, as if to prevent him from fleeing. "Listen to me. Why do you think Kunimitsu can't cope with this, but you can? Don't you see? The strength to face the truth is inside you. Tezuka Kunimitsu's strength is in you. You, all of you, are one and the same person. You have to give him the strength, your strength to help him."

"He just want to stop hurting. Why can't you let him be happy?"

"And you? Don't you want to stop hurting?"

Tezuka jerked his head. An abrupt abbreviated shake.

"You don't want to stop hurting? Don't you want to be happy too? Don't you deserve that as much as Kunimitsu and Shiroi?"

"No!" a cry tore out of his throat before he clamped down once more. His features turned cold and still, distant. He stood up and walked to the window, looking out.

Yuriko waited for him in silence. Waited for him to fill the space she left open.

"This is my fault. This is my responsibility. My choice. My punishment. My pain. So I will never forget." Even with such provocation, Tezuka maintained his cold façade. His voice deep, monotonous, devoid of feelings.

"Tezuka-san, do you think holding on to the pain, to keep punishing yourself … Do you think that would make your family happy?"

Tezuka did not answer. He knew he wasn't what Okaasan, Otousan and Ojiisan wanted. Kunimitsu was what they wanted. Happy, normal, loved, perfect, flawless. That was why he had to protect Kunimitsu. Shiroi and Tezuka were aberrations. Ugly, twisted, hated, cripple.

Kunimitsu shouldn't have to pay for the terrible things Tezuka had done. That was why Shiroi was supposed to be out here. Because the less time Tezuka came out, the less likely he would do some terrible damage. Now, everything was unravelling. He clenched his fist in frustration.

_Crunch!_

_He remembered the rough thick cloth of the man's jacket in his hand. The momentum of the body hurling toward him. The force that he pulled and twisted with his own body and his own weight behind it, full of adrenaline. The loud thump of body falling on concrete._

_He remembered thinking, 'This is not a dojo. There are no tatami mats here." Then, the crunch of bones breaking, crack of skull on unforgiving floor. He stood over an unconscious man. 'No! This is not why Ojiisan taught me judo. I don't want to hurt anyone.'_

_But his body was not listening. He had another guard in a strangle hold, feeling the body slowly going limp. He had lost count of how many escapes he had attempted. Only it was getting harder. Hard enough that he had to disable two men to free himself._

_'Be very careful when you practice shimewaza,' Ojiisan's voice commanded from the past. 'Never ever do this outside of practice or competition. Never ever do to someone not trained to receive it. There is a reason why you are only allowed to learn this after you reached fourteen. It is dangerous. If your opponent did not submit, you have to know how long you can keep your hold before it becomes fatal.'_

_Strangulation is different from suffocation. Chokes cuts off air supply to the lungs, the body knows when it needs air. Pressure on the trachea is uncomfortable, even painful. The body will struggle and show signs of distress. But in a hadaka-jime, you cut off blood flow to the brain. When that happened, the mind feels sleepy, but the body is not threatened. That is why, some people, in the middle of action, lost consciousness without realising it. They don't feel strangled until it is too late. Apply the pressure for too long and it will cause brain damage. That is why, someone not used to it will not struggle or give signs of distress. _

_'Never use these techniques in anything but absolutely clear, controlled and calm mind,' Ojiisan always reminded his students after one of those sessions._

_And he broke everything that day. Disobeyed every instruction Ojiisan gave him. He did not know if the two guards that he overpowered would recover. It did not matter. He had abused his knowledge to cause harm. That was all that mattered._

_Crack! Crunch! Blood spilled on the floor._

Tezuka pulled out his fist from his pocket. He forced his hand open. A packet of crumpled rice cracker lay in his palm. 'It is just Shiroi's rice cracker.' Snacks that Sanada's mother had given him.

'It is just rice cracker,' he reminded himself again, forcing his heart to calm down. When he had regained his equilibrium, he set aside the disturbing memories and focused on the issue at hand.

"You hurt Kunimitsu."

"And I want to help him get better. Let us all help him. We can't do that if Kunimitsu is running away."

"You will stop him from hurting."

"It is up to Kunimitsu. And Shiroi and you. But Ryuuzaki-sensei and I are here to help the best we can."

Tezuka stared long and hard at her, piercing her with his eyes. Weighing her resolve and commitment. Appraising her for prevarications.

Suddenly, he moved without warning. He threw the cracker over-handed into the waste-basket. Then, without so much as a 'please', he tore off a corner of Yuriko's notebook and took her pen out of her hand. He wrote quickly, then held the note with both hands in front of him.

Without warning, he jerked up in shock, eyes wide and swivelling to take in the room. Yuriko knew it was Kunimitsu in front of her.

"Tezuka-kun, welcome back. Tezuka-san left you a note."

Kunimitsu looked at the slip of paper in his hand.

_Ryuuzaki-sensei._

_Tamiyama Park._

_Purple hyacinth, lotus, morning glory._

_Do not go home!_

"May I?" Yuriko asked for the note. As usual, Tezuka was_ s_ubtle and succinct.

_Safe place. I'm sorry I cannot be with you. I promise I will be okay. _

* * *

**Note:**

I know I mentioned it was supposed to be Sanada's chapter. But when I was editing Sanada's chapter, Tezuka decided he had more to say on the matter and it had to be before Sanada. He has more lines this chapter, but I think I still managed to keep his taciturn nature intact. Phew! Another Tezuka-centric character analysis chapter. Next one will be Sanada's. No more detours, I hope.

**shimewaza** - Judo constriction techniques. Divided into strangling (constricting carotid artery), choke (constricting windpipe), and compression of chest/lungs. Strangling is most stressed and commonly taught. It has advantage of being fast-acting, least force and effective. (Refer to http :/ judoinfo. com/ chokes. htm)

**hadaka-jime** – Naked strangle is 1 of 36 shimewaza. It does not require clothes to execute the technique. It utilises wrist and applied from the back.

**Language of flowers (hanakotoba):**

Purple hyacinth – Sorrow, I'm sorry (western)

Lotus (suiren) - Far from the loved one (Japanese)

Morning glory (asagao) – Will fulfil promises (Japanese)

Tamiyama Park – see chapter 15, 32, 33.

Please skip these notes if you don't want to read counselling process being analysed. I have finally covered large portions of counselling therapy in the past chapters that I can note this without spoilers. I'm in the middle of Counselling subject as part of my coursework, so I've been trying to see if I can write better with my swanky newly acquired knowledge. (Or maybe worse, because you know, academic writing is bland, dry and boring.)

**Counselling techniques** – Yuriko was going through confronting and influencing process with Tezuka. (Refer to _Intentional Interviewing and Counselling_, Ivey, Ivey & Zalaquet, 2010)

**Confronting** – identify, clarify and made aware the client's behaviour that were incongruous and conflicting. Therapist's role is to make the client aware of his mixed messages between what is said and what is wanted and what is being done (both conscious and unconscious behaviour). It is part of mediation and conflict resolution. Confronting is stressful and painful experience for the client, but not always destructive. Tezuka at this point is stuck, frozen in time, not growing, not healing. Yuriko's aim is to help him grow cognitively and emotionally, as well as to reduce stress. As therapist, she had to be supportive and sensitive, controlling the appropriate amount of stress without overwhelming Tezuka's ability to cope.

**Influencing** – Aim to help client create new life stories or re-story their past. Re-story is looking at the past or current life in new light/perspective. Motivate client to initiate change. Yuriko questioned alternative positive and negative results (logical sequence). Pointed out how his behaviour is seen by others (feedback). Provide information to Kunimitsu and psycho-education to Shiroi. Influencing needs the proper timing and frame of mind to be effective.

**Resistant Client** – Tezuka, out of three alters, is the resistant client. He was in therapy against his will and he has learned distrust. As the protector, it was quite horrifying for him to have some stranger rummaging in his deepest darkest secret. He is an extremely private person. He did not want to be there and he will resist or sabotage therapy. Resistant client can also be contrary, defensive, passive aggressive, manipulative and show signs of exhaustion and avoidance. I've focused on 2/4 class of resistant behaviours for Tezuka, response quality (silence, minimal talk, non-compliance) and content (emotional display, concealing information, distraction) resistance. Response style and logistics management resistance do not fit with Tezuka's character and circumstances. Through combined efforts of Atobe, Sanada, Yuriko and Ryuuzaki, he was slowly turning around.

**Self-disclosure –**Yuriko is not prone to self-disclosing to the client. Though there are several schools of thoughts that think appropriate and limited self-disclosure could help client (build trust, equality, diminish power difference). Some think it is necessary to build authentic therapeutic relationship. But this is a fanfiction and Yuriko, being an OC, has no purpose to reveal about herself to the reader unless it advances the plot. Also, being an Oshitari, she had Yuushi's ability to close heart/mind.

* * *

**Responses to Reviewers:**

Aan : Yes, that's why I like his character. Have to read between the lines with this kid. But rewatching PoT, Tezuka really looks and sounds cold and impersonal when I'm just studying his body language and voice, taking his scenes out of context. Depressing? Sad? Yes! Thank you! Don't worry. I'm sure it's normal to want to torture your favourite.

Imeldamizi: No worries. English is not my first language either. Thank you for your reviews here and for the other stories. I'm glad to hear the emotional responses from my reader. Please continue following this story.

Kamu: Welcome back! I seem to be making people cry lately. I'll take that as a compliment. :D

Akuma-tenshi: Nice to hear from a new reader. I have a fondness for the three-way rivalry. I look forward to hear more from you.


	37. Chapter 37

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 37**

Based on new information from Ryuuzaki Sumire, Sanada followed new leads. He spent several days in Tokyo, cashing in all his accumulated time off.

He tracked down the small closet-sized apartment that Tezuka lived in. The building manager had left and his files were gone. None of his neighbours remembered him. Some of the small restaurants remembered the young man who sold them freshly caught fish every Tuesday before disappearing suddenly. A café manager remembered the diligent and reliable young waiter who worked for three months and quietly studied between tables. No one knew where he went or what happened to him. Nine years was a long time ago. The trail had gone cold.

Next, he turned his attention to the civil service. Without an official investigation and a warrant, it was much more difficult to pull out files from the Welfare Department. While most people became quite cooperative with a flash of his badge, the clerks at the Children's Welfare were strict and vigilant. He supposed, given that their charges were vulnerable minors, they had to be more conscientious and protective. There was no way he could ask for Tezuka's files without an official police investigation.

Stymied, he found himself moping around the streets of Tokyo. He walked around, finding himself gravitated towards tennis courts. He sat through a game or two, picking holes and finding faults with each player. None of them excited him in any way. He felt restless and listless. Moving from one court to another, trying to dispel his lethargy and find new inspiration.

He found himself at Tennis' Forest Garden, watching yet another mediocre match. The players in front of him blurred as his mind replaced them with old familiar faces. It was in that court that Sanada had witnessed Tezuka and Atobe's fateful match. The never ending tie-break that Tezuka fought to the bitter end. It was, to this day, a legendary match that was told and retold in the Kantou circuit.

It was the same place he met Tezuka for the first time. Technically, it was not the first time he met Tezuka, but it was the first time that mattered. He did not remember Tezuka then, at that time, as the boy who accompanied Tezuka-ojiisan's visits and played with him. While Tezuka-ojiisan still visited Sanada's grandfather every year, Tezuka Kunimitsu had stopped following Tezuka-ojiisan to Kanagawa. The seven-year-old playmate did not have glasses then, unlike the Tezuka that he came to know. If he were completely honest with himself, Sanada did not even remember his playmate's name.

Sanada looked up at the cloudless sky. It was on a similar day like this, when Tezuka left an indelible mark in his life. Sanada was Singles One for his elementary school team in the Finals of Elementary School National Tournament. Across the net, Yukimura smiled a challenge. On the bleachers, Tezuka sat exactly where Sanada sat. A life time ago, Sanada still felt the intense stare from one unknown nondescript boy.

He lost Singles One to Yukimura, shook hands and accepted his defeat as gracefully as he could. After the award ceremony, he saw the same boy again. This time, the boy was talking to Yukimura, a tennis racquet in hand. It looked like the champion was being challenged to a match.

Sanada rushed headlong into the court. He may have to settle for second best in this tournament. Yukimura did win fair and square. But it galled him that this nameless boy would challenge Yukimura, as if Sanada was nothing in his eyes. So he brashly intruded their conversation and challenged Tezuka. Tezuka would have to go through him first before he could play against Yukimura.

Tezuka did not answer him. Rather, he looked at Yukimura, silently questioning who Sanada think he was to interrupt them. Yukimura, being his eccentric best, simply smiled and nodded at Sanada. He would be pleased to graciously wait his turn after Sanada.

So, Tezuka turned to him and said, "Three sets match." The first words he uttered to Sanada.

Sanada thought it would be an easy match against this nameless boy. Surely, if the boy was arrogant enough to think that he could play evenly against a National-ranked player, he should have been well-known in the tennis circuit. As it was, Tezuka Kunimitsu was not even a blip in any elementary school tennis club. He would crush this boy and show him what it meant to stand at the top.

Only, he did not. He lost the second time in a whole year. Twice in a day! Worse than his previous match against Yukimura when he had lost the one-set match at 5-7. He lost disgracefully to Tezuka at a humiliating 6-3, 6-2. Lost 4 consecutive games after his stamina ran out, consumed by Muga no Kyouchi. Tezuka's tennis was beautifully flawless.

"So, you are capable of reaching Muga no Kyouchi too. Interesting," said Yukimura.

"Impossible!" Sanada had protested. Tezuka looked cool and relaxed. He did not look like he had entered the state that would have consumed all of his energy. Sanada, still panting heavily, could barely remember the match, the moments when his mind blanked out and his body moved on pure instinct.

Tezuka merely shrugged and went into service position. Even then, Tezuka was a taciturn child. Yukimura and Tezuka played evenly. One-all. Two-all. Five-all. Then, the park security found them and chased them off the court.

"What was it?" Yukimura asked as Tezuka's father drove them to catch the last train back to Kanagawa.

Tezuka was silent for many minutes. Finally, he said, "Hyakuren Jitoku no Kiwami, the Pinnacle of Hard Work. The first door of Muga no Kyouchi."

Two weeks later, Sanada received a letter from Yukimura. Never mind that he never gave Yukimura his address. It was the latest Tennis Pro Monthly magazine with Sanada and Yukimura's match on front cover. But that wasn't what Yukimura wanted to show him. There was a bookmark on the centre-fold. 'Tezuka Kunimitsu (age 11) broke Tokyo record as youngest player to win U-16 in Mizuwabake Tokyo Junior Tennis Open Tournament.'

It was unimaginable to Sanada at that time. Tezuka had skipped U-12 and U-14 age-group levels to win as champion in U-16. An elementary school kid played against Middle and High School players. Finding that Muga no Kyouchi was not an end, but the beginning of something greater. That Tezuka had reached the first door and was probably aiming for higher levels.

Sanada had been satisfied when he reached Muga. It was Tezuka that showed him that he had been slacking and careless. It changed him. It changed his tennis. It changed his life.

Perhaps that was why he was there; at that particular spot, looking down into that particular court. Subconsciously, he had been looking for Tezuka. The Tezuka that was. Except that Tezuka no longer existed. Lost in the passage of time. That Yukimura and Atobe too no longer existed. Lost in adulthood. What about that Sanada Genichirou? Does he still exist? Or he too had grown up and left that young boy behind?

Somehow, he felt like mourning. But there was no dead to mourn, only the living. He should be grateful, he knew that. But somehow, he felt something died inside him.

"Genichirou!"

Sanada looked up to see Yanagi standing behind him. "Renji? Why are you here?"

"Tennis." He moved aside to reveal Inui, Kaidou and Yagyuu behind him. "Inui and I are playing doubles against Rikkai Daigaku next week. We asked Yagyuu and Kaidou-kun to help us refine our new formation."

"Oh," said Sanada stupidly. Why else would anyone be here, except to play tennis. Except Sanada, that was, who was here to remember old tennis games.

"Renji, why don't you get the court ready?" said Inui, gesturing to the players who had overstayed their booking.

Kaidou took one look at Inui and Sanada. "Yagyuu-san, let's start warming up." They dropped their tennis bags and started running down the path.

"Inui."

"Sanada." Inui took a seat beside Sanada. "How is Tezuka?"

"He is going through a rough patch. But Oshitari-sensei said he is getting better. Making progress."

"Atobe? Fuji and I would …"

"Atobe is still not back yet."

Inui sighed. "This is frustrating. We should never have agreed to Atobe's- Never mind. What was done was done. Can you persuade Atobe to let us see him, even when he wasn't around?"

Sanada did not reply. He wasn't sure what Atobe was thinking when he specifically forbid any of Tezuka's old friends from visiting while he was away in Europe. But Tezuka was in a critical period of his therapy. Kunimitsu and Shiroi were now frequently out in the compounds. Tezuka would not see them. Shiroi would be disturbed or ignore them. But Kunimitsu … Kunimitsu would see them. What then? He did not know enough to anticipate if it would be a good thing or a bad thing. Atobe seemed to think that it would be bad for Kunimitsu or Shiroi to see them.

"Sanada?"

"Inui. I can't do anything about Atobe."

Inui's face dropped with disappointment.

Sanada could not leave him like that. So, he added, "Your Ryuuzaki-sensei had seen Tezuka this week. Perhaps, you should speak to her. Not today. Perhaps tomorrow."

Inui stared at him in surprise. Apparently, Sanada and Atobe were not the only ones to forget about contacting her in their search for Tezuka. Oh, the irony that it was Kunimitsu himself, who did not remember anything before the accident, that gave them their biggest clue. Poor confused and bewildered Kunimitsu, who even now, was standing before his family's grave with Ryuuzaki-sensei watching over him. He did not envy her position.

Being there for Tezuka, who knew, was hard enough. Sanada did not know how he could bear Kunimitsu's grief. Kunimitsu … Kunimitsu was living in a time when his family were alive and well. The news of their death was a huge shock to him. And he was taking it really hard.

When he emerged again, he frantically wanted to go home. Nothing Yuriko or anyone said could have persuaded him otherwise. Not even a tatty note written in his own hand. So, Ryuuzaki-sensei stepped in and volunteered to take him. Retracing the steps that Tezuka Kunimitsu took nine years ago when he woke up from his coma. Kunimitsu was a large part of Tezuka after all, so it was not surprising that he would do as Tezuka did back then.

After an hour long practice, Yagyuu dropped out. He left Kaidou to play one against two. A practice for Kaidou's next tournament.

"My stamina isn't what it used to be," he said, towelling himself off as he sat beside Sanada.

"Hmph!" snorted Sanada. "You've been slacking behind a desk job."

"You haven't changed a bit, Sanada. So, what brought you here? I thought you were busy. If I knew you were coming to Tokyo, I would have Renji invited you. You can give those two a better work out."

"I'm not here to play tennis."

"Are you working on a case?"

"Not exactly. I've been trying to find new leads into Tezuka's case."

"But?"

"The trail is now cold. Too long ago. If only I can get my hands on the official reports. But you know how it is with Social Welfare." Sanada gritted his teeth in frustration. "Something just doesn't add up. Seigaku's Ryuuzaki-sensei said there was a missing person police report on Tezuka. But I can't that report in Tokyo. She wouldn't lie about something like that. What happened to that report?"

"Hmm … was it missing, or never filed? It could have been misplaced when they reorganise the filing system a few years back. My team still have problems trying to locate what we need in that mess."

"I … I don't think Ryuuzaki-sensei would misremember something as important as that. I'll look again."

"What do you want from the Social Welfare? There are more than one way to get what you want from them."

"Tezuka's files."

"You can't subpoena Tezuka's files, since he is not in a court case. But what about the person who wrote those reports? Does his social-worker have a police record?"

Sanada looked stunned at Yagyuu. "I never thought of that." Then he frowned. "Thank you. I will look into it. If I can dig up some dirt on his social-worker, I can request for all his files, including Tezuka's."

"It might not be a bad idea to make use of Yanagi and Inui. They have sources outside of official reports. Give them a name or two. They might yet surprise you."

"Aa."

* * *

**Note:**

23/6/2012 – Edited and updated this chapter. Forgot to mention why Sanada did not connect 7-year-old Tezuka who fought/played with him to 11-year-old Tezuka who challenged Yukimura.

Tezuka played against Sanada and Yukimura before they entered Junior High. Tezuka won in 2 sets against Sanada. Against Yukimura, the result was either inconclusive or unknown.

Tezuka was mentioned as 'junior tennis champion' in Atobe vs Tezuka flashback.

Ryuuzaki, Inoue and other characters had commented that Tezuka was beyond 'Junior High' level.

Rikkai Daigaku = Rikkai University.

Rikkai Dai Fuzoku Chuu Gakkou = Rikkai University Affiliated Middle School  
Rikkaidai is linked to a university. That's why Kantou and Nationals team drawing placements that were conducted in Rikkaidai was shown in lecture theater, rather than normal school classroom.

Kantou Tournament was played in Tennis' Forest Garden.

Nationals Tournament was played in Tokyo Prefecture Arena Tennis Court.

Yukimura Seiichi's elementary school: Minami Shounan

Sanada Genichirou's elementary school: Kanagawa Daiichi

Muga no Kyouchi (無我の境地) – State of No-Self.


	38. Chapter 38

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 38**

"Sanada," Yanagi Renji's voice greeted him from the telephone. "Sadaharu and I found something. We are not sure what we've found, but there is 82% probability that it's related to Tezuka. Come over to our apartment."

Sanada walked over to the weight machine. Tezuka was still in the middle of his upper body physiotherapy. Dr. Sano stood in front of him, watching his movements like a hawk while counting down his sets of workout.

Tezuka had shown much improvement over the past week. Whatever Ryuuzaki-sensei and Yuriko-sensei had done, it seemed to be working. Kunimitsu was present most of the time. While he was much more serious and quieter, though Sanada would have thought it was impossible for Tezuka to be anymore serious and quieter that he already was, he was present most of the time, taking dominance over Shiroi once more. He also spoke to Sanada, asking about the world outside, his ex-teammates, the future world that he had finally accepted as his new reality. Sanada took Kunimitsu's interest in the world around him as a good sign. A sign that he was taking control of his life once more.

Kunimitsu was also putting on weight. Shiroi's slim, androgynous physique was changing into a more muscular and masculine athletic body. He was changing back into an older, but more familiar Tezuka that fitted Sanada's mental image of him. There were lines of grief etched into his eyes, but there were also determination and strength in the firm set of his jaws.

Tezuka, the second alter, had stopped sabotaging Kunimitsu's rehabilitation by stealing his memories. He had even stopped throwing tantrums. Yuriko-sensei had even managed to get him to submit to hypnosis to help piece together Tezuka Kunimitsu's life and history. While he was not exactly the paragon of co-operation, the fact that he reluctantly, but willingly participated in psychotherapy without too much resistance was a big step. Not that Sanada had any idea why. But if Yuriko-sensei thought so, he would happily defer his judgement to the expert.

Shiroi only came out four or five times a week. He appeared calm and serene as usual, but Sanada thought he was looking rather colourless. To Sanada, he seemed to be withdrawn and falling into depression. Yuriko-sensei had noticed that he seemed to go out into the garden late at night, gazing faraway towards the gate in deep thought. Sanada had overheard several staff members commenting on his habits and more. While it was understandable to hear the women sighed dreamily at how beautiful and ethereal Shiroi looked in his white kimono under the moonlight, his ears burned when he heard the men did the same. Even the straight ones! They wanted Shiroi to give them that look of unattainable longing that was so melancholic and heart-breaking. Sanada knew there was only one person that could evoke such an expression from Shiroi as he stood under the sakura tree; body poised, shoulders square, face upturned, with his wide eyes glittering moistly with tightly held tears. He was waiting for Atobe Keigo, who had been away for four weeks.

Atobe was still somewhere in Europe. The last time Sanada talked to him, he was in Greece, in the middle of a busy and noisy office. He gave up trying to carry a conversation with Atobe after they had been interrupted for the tenth time in the seven minutes phone call. When he tried calling in the day, Atobe was cranky from being woken up. Yanagi tried to explain what Atobe was dealing with once. Something about Europe having a financial crisis, and Atobe Corp., being a major investment company, was badly hit by the economic crisis. Yanagi thought Atobe would be busy trying to fix the problems in some of the subsidiaries, at best, or trying to keep them from bankruptcy, at worst.

Sanada did not understand a word of what Yanagi was trying to say. In the end, Yukimura simply summed it up as Atobe was very very busy trying to save the economy of several countries that involved a lot of money and very complicated problems. So, Sanada should forgive him for being busy and distracted and too tired all the time. And everybody agreed with Niou that Sanada was very very inconsiderate for calling Atobe in the middle of day in Japan when it was probably 3 or 4 am at wherever Atobe was.

Kunimitsu had stopped his workout and was giving Sanada an expectant look. Sanada quickly shook himself out of his reverie. Somehow, Kunimitsu still had Tezuka's almost psychic ability to know when Sanada wanted to say something. Sanada quickly made his excuses and bid him farewell. With any luck, he could beat the rush hour traffic and get to Tokyo within two hours. He might not be able to help Tezuka much on his recovery, but he could at least pursue justice on Tezuka's behalf.

Yanagi and Inui were busy at their computers when he arrived. Yanagi had two stacks of printouts ready for him. Yagyuu was reading through the bigger stack.

"Sanada," greeted Inui. "Thank you for telling me about Ryuuzaki-sensei. Talking to her and knowing that she is looking after Tezuka's interest is of great relief to us. No offence. I know you and Atobe were trying to help Tezuka, but we can't leave him completely in your hands. I mean, he's one of us, and you are not. I hope you understand."

Sanada grunted. Everyone seemed to expect him to be understanding these days.

"Let's start the briefing," said Yanagi. He picked up the smaller stack of printouts. "The first name you gave us is Sakamoto Ryuuichi. He was Tezuka's first case worker. He was also the one who processed Tezuka's guardianship papers. Hard working man, clean records, no scandals. Currently senior manager in Iwate prefecture."

"He's clean on police records too. Not even a parking ticket," said Sanada.

Inui picked up the second stack. "The second person is Yamaguchi Chiisuke. When Sakamoto was promoted and transferred to Kyuushuu, Tezuka's case was passed to Yamaguchi. Based on the time frame, he was Tezuka's case worker when he disappeared. So, he should be the one who filed the missing person report that Ryuuzaki-sensei mentioned."

"Before we continue," Yanagi interrupted,"what can you tell us about Yamaguchi?"

"Yamaguchi …" Sanada took a deep breath. "What I am about to tell you stays in this room."

Yanagi and Inui exchanged a look. Yanagi nodded once, followed by Inui.

"The coast guard found a body two months after Tezuka disappeared. It was badly decayed. Tentatively, the forensics identified the body as Yamaguchi Chiisuke. Mainly because he was reported missing around the same time and have the closest built. The case is now closed as a drowning accident."

"You said 'as a drowning accident'," said Yanagi.

"Yes. The detective's personal notes suggested homicide. Possibly professional. But without a clear identification of the victim and hard evidence of foul play, he had to drop the case."

"I've also read that file." For the first time, Yagyuu spoke up. "If you read between the lines, the detective's reports suggests that he had been persuaded to close the case as soon as possible, with as little fuss as possible."

"Yagyuu, that's speculations," protested Sanada.

"Sanada, when you have read as many police investigation reports as I have, you learn to read between the lines. Police reports have to be accurate, objective and evidence based. But detectives also worked on hunches and rumours. Most of those things do not get written down on official reports. At least, not explicitly. And when a detective is pressured to close a case … you can pick up the 'tone' and awkward phrasing in his or her report."

"I could analyse-" Yanagi stopped mid-sentence at Sanada's sudden chopping gesture.

"Yagyuu and I are not going to break our professional ethics to show it you. Sorry, Renji. Forget it."

Inui looked at Yanagi, expecting at least an attempt to persuade Sanada. But Yanagi simply shrugged. "It's Sanada." As if that explained everything.

"What do you have for us, Renji?" Yagyuu redirected the focus back to their discussion.

"Yamaguchi had quite a history. He had a large gambling debt. There were rumours that he had connections with yakuza. Several children under his care had vanished without a trace. Children who would not be missed. The orphans and the abandoned and the alone. The kind of disappearances that would not be noticed. The last being Tezuka Kunimitsu ..."

"… who was noticed by a concerned teacher," finished Inui.

"My gods!" Yagyuu choked out.

"You know something, Yagyuu. What is it?" Sanada grabbed Yagyuu by the collar.

"No. It's classified. I don't have clearance. I wasn't supposed to see it. But I was building a case. I was being clever. I had to break in."

"What?!"

Rrriiing! Rriiinng! Everyone froze.

"Sanada, your pocket is ringing." Yanagi broke the silence.

Sanada slowly released Yagyuu and picked his phone. "Sanada here."

"Hello, Sanada-san," a deep familiar voice greeted him. "I asked you once before. I am asking you again. Please, let it go."

"Asakura-san. Did Atobe told you to call me?"

"No, Sanada-san. I know what you are doing. Please, step back before this becomes irreversible."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"For Master Keigo's sake, do reconsider what you are doing before it is too late."

"Does Atobe know what you are talking about? Did he put you up to this?"

"No, Sanada-san. It's my job to know. And I know what you are doing will put him in great danger."

"Are you threatening me?" growled Sanada.

"No, Sanada-san. I am trying to save you. Both of you."

"I am sure I don't know what you are talking about. I'm just having a small reunion with old friends. Tell Atobe to get back here as soon as possible. Goodbye." Sanada shoved his phone back into his jacket and turned towards Yagyuu.

Yagyuu looked like he had just seen a ghost. "Was that a warning? Who? A politician? Yakuza? Police Commandant?"

"Atobe's bodyguard. Atobe is up to his mind tricks again, damn him!"

Yagyuu drew a deep breath, visibly trying to control his shaking. "I swear that is the last time I channelled Niou," he muttered. "Need a Niou to pull a good trick. Bad Niou. No more Niou. No more tricks."

"Yagyuu, stop babbling. Out with it. What did you find out?"

"Look, this was three years ago. I didn't know it had anything to do with anyone we know. I was working on a hush hush case for internal affairs. Police anti-corruption." Yagyuu pulled out a photocopied document. "Someone in Interpol Japan noticed. The detective was investigating human trafficking. Black market modern day slavery."

"So?"

"He was also the detective that investigated Yamaguchi's death. He was following a lead on missing children. It led him to Yamaguchi Chiisuke. But the guy disappeared before he could get him to reveal the scheme."

Inui started typing. "If we can find this detective, he can tell us everything. What is his name?" His fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Yagyuu turned towards Sanada. "I just noticed the name. Is he someone you know?" Yagyuu wrote four characters on a piece of paper and passed it to Sanada.

"His name, Sanada?" said Inui impatiently.

"His name is Sanada Ryuumon. He is dead. He was my older cousin."

"Too bad," sighed Inui. "Do you know anything about his work?"

Sanada shook his head. "Just that he was with Interpol and rarely at home."

"There is more." Yagyuu interjected. "Sanada Ryuumon was also investigating Mizuno Isseki. You can't tell any of this to Atobe Keigo."

"Why not?" frowned Sanada.

"Mizuno Isseki," said Inui over the 'tap-tap-tap' of his keyboard. "Chairman of a multi-million dollar head-hunting and human resource company, Kiseki. The company that handled all staffing contracts with Atobe (J) Corp. Up to 99% of Atobe (J) Corp is hired through Kiseki. Mizuno is married to Atobe Kiyomi, aunt of Atobe Keigo. Their son, Atobe-Mizuno Keijirou is third in line to inherit the Atobe fortune."

"Who hired the odd 1%?"

"Atobe Keigo himself."

"Like I said," reiterated Yagyuu, "you can not breathe a word of this to Atobe Keigo."

"Hyoutei's Atobe is involved with human trafficking and yakuza? And Tezuka was somehow involved in it." Yanagi gave voice to what they were afraid to say out loud.

Inui stood up abruptly. "We have to get Tezuka away from him! We-"

"Calm down, Inui-san." Yagyuu gave Yanagi a frown. "Atobe's uncle was under suspicion, not Atobe himself. All these happened before he came back to Japan."

Sanada frowned into his tea, thoughts tangled in his head. Was Asakura's strange call related to Mizuno and Yamaguchi, moments before he found out about it? What was Asakura's motive? Did Atobe knew about Sanada Ryuumon's investigations? Was the call a way to warn him off, to cover up for Atobe's family? Surely Atobe would not do this to Tezuka. He may be ruthless, but even Atobe had his own personal sense of honour. But he deliberately orchestrated Tezuka's injury in Junior High. Atobe may be vain-glorious, determined and self-centred, but surely, Atobe was not cruel or vindictive. Was he? Did Sanada misread Atobe completely? Should he confront Atobe, as his first impulse dictated? Or keep this a secret as Yagyuu wanted him to. The scattered tea leaves on the bottom of his teacup did not yield any answers.

* * *

**Note:**

There! I've done it now. Brought in the sub-plot I thought I could keep out. Dang it, Sanada. Things were less complicated when you just sit there in the background. I really really thought I could finish this in one year. Really. Look! It's been 3 years all ready. Apologies to the faithful readers who had waited for the slow updates.

**Response to Reviewers:**

Glad you liked a nostalgic Sanada and the flashbacks in the last chapter. As for how much did Seigaku members know, it depends. Inui probably knew more than the others.


	39. Chapter 39

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 39 – A day in the life of Kunimitsu**

Kunimitsu rinsed the soap off his face with a few splashes of water. He shook his head sharply to the left to flick the curtain of hair away from his face. He flattened his lips irritable when he found that the soap had gotten into his too long hair anyway. Someone had unbraided it again while he slept.

As much as he wanted to doubt Yuriko-sensei's revelation about his other alternate identities, even he had to admit it was the most plausible explanation for those black outs in his memory and finding himself in different state than he had expected when he woke up. He remembered braiding the long cumbersome hair last night. He did it every night before going to bed, coiling the long rope around his head. He had learned that leaving those long strands unchecked would lead to a painful and rude awakening in the morning. The slightest shift in the night would trap a lock under his body, which would inevitable led to a stinging reminder of its existence when he tried to get up in the morning.

He pulled off the white yukata sleeping robe and quickly changed into a t-shirt and sweat pants. His pyjamas, which he went to sleep in, were neatly folded on the dresser. He gathered his hair together, running his hands down the silky soft length. He noticed it had been carefully brushed and moisturised until it shone like burnished copper. He shook his head at his own behaviour. It may be a nuisance, but it was a beautiful nuisance. He would speak to Yuriko-sensei again about a haircut. For now, he tied it into a topknot to keep it out of his way.

He was the first one to arrive at breakfast. The staff greeted him respectfully before setting his meal down at his customary table by the window. By the time he was done, three more patients had joined him in the room. A middle-aged lady with severe depression was wheeled in by her regular nurse. Another patient, a young woman, sat in the corner nearest the exit, meticulously wiped every plate, cup and silverware before starting her meal. Each morsel, be it meat, vegetable or bread, was cut to precisely one centimetre cube before she ate it. The final patient took the table in the middle of the room. He usually complained about something or other before settling down with a huff. Kunimitsu did not speak with any of them, though he observed them as he did all the staff in the building.

He drew a deep breath as he exited the building. The staff no longer watch him every moment during the day. When he first woke up, there was always a staff in the room with him, wherever he was. The only time he was left alone was when he was in the safe room. Even then, he knew he was being watched. Three weeks ago, with the presence of Ryuuzaki-sensei, he seemed to have made a breakthrough. They allowed him more freedom and privacy, letting him move around in the compound unsupervised.

He drew in another long breath of cool morning air, focussing his thoughts on the foot path ahead while expanding his other senses to his surroundings. A sharp pain assailed him as he stretch, starting his routine warm-up process. If he closed his eyes, he could easily feel his grandfather's firm hands on his shoulders adjusting his posture, he could smell the tea his mother was brewing and hear his father's cheerful voice in the kitchen. He kept his eyes open to reality to keep those sensory memories at bay.

He carefully felt the shape of the painful void inside him – a vast, dark, yawning abyss. He folded the edges bit by bit, slowly compressing it into a neat small package, until it became a familiar dull ache. Reality re-assert itself. Cool breeze and flannel against his skin. Green grass and jasmine from the garden over the earthy tang of water from the koi pond. Birds chirped and leaves rustled, snap of sheets being hung over the laundry lines. No other human within sight. He pulled the darkness in with every breath and expelled it from his body as he breathed out. Over and over, until nothing was left except the track in front of him. He felt both mind and body synchronise, reaching a light meditative state.

He straightened up and set one foot forward. He paced himself carefully, timing each footfall to each heartbeat, one foot in front of another, knees lifted cleanly, exactly one pace, two times around the track. Maybe three, if his legs could hold him up that day.

Ryuuzaki-sensei was waiting for him at the end of the track with a towel and water bottle. Two and one-quarter rounds before his body failed him. His lungs burning dry and his legs weak and shaking. She watched him quietly while he slowly walked the rest of the track. He thanked her and wrote 1.25 km in his notebook. She nodded in approval as he went through his cool down routine.

They sat down by the lake. Ryuuzaki-sensei gave him a piece of cake with pineapples in it. Sakuno was learning how to make the pineapple upside-down cake. She spoke of changes to the Mathematics syllabus in Junior High and new developments around the neighbourhood. Then she mentioned Inui, Fuji, Oishi, Kikumaru, Kawamura and Momoshiro visiting her at home. She talked about what they had been doing. Inui with a post-graduate scholarship. Fuji, Kikumaru and Momoshiro with full time jobs. Oishi in medical school. Kawamura taking his sushi chef rice exam. Kaidou and Echizen were overseas. They asked about him. She said she would ask him if they could visit.

He felt the edges of his dark package unravelling. There were too many demands on him. He did not feel like himself. He did not know who he was any more. He did not know them any more. They sounded so grown up. He should be in school. He caught his own reflection in Ryuuzaki-sensei's watch and reminded himself he was supposed to be grown up too. He did not belong in school. He did not belong any where.

He shook his head.

Just hearing their names had frayed his carefully constructed reality. Seeing them would tear it open completely, spilling the contents until it overwhelmed him. He did not think he could be Tezuka-buchou just yet. Or Tezuka the grown up. He did not want them to see Kunimitsu the invalid. He felt like little Kunimitsu, five-years-old, torn from his mother's hand by the pressing crowd, lost in the chaos of a large shopping mall, desperately looking for a safe familiar face. He wanted to cry in frustration because he was too small and he could not see past their shoulders. He did not want to see any one. He just wanted to go home where it was safe and quiet and calm; where he could hear himself think and not be inundated by chaotic noise and movement.

At nine precisely, he went for physiotherapy. On weekends, Sanada would visit during this time, occasionally bringing homemade tea-snacks from his mother. He had not seen Atobe for several weeks, but Sanada kept him informed of Atobe's busy life. After lunch, he had sessions with Yuriko-sensei three times a week. The rest of the day were filled with his own strength training, personal study and leisure. Yuriko had left him to make up his own schedule after she realised Kunimitsu, unlike Shiroi, prefer to arrange his own structured routine.

He had filled it with a hour at the gym, half hour in the garden to rest, an hour at the library, an hour running, and more time in the outdoor grounds to rest and cool down. His notebook was filled with his daily activities, marked with precise dates and times. After several blackouts and lost time, it was a technique he used to reassure and reorientate himself. There were always two grey-shaded slots in his schedule when Yuriko-sensei had her sessions with his other selves. He did not have any notes in those times. He shied away from the uncomfortable thoughts of them by distracting his attention to the environment around him.

It was evening, his evening run. Ryuuzaki-sensei had gone home after lunch. The koi fishes followed his shadow along the lake bank as he jogged to his usual feeding spot. Their bodies flashed red, white, gold, bronze, and silver as he scattered pellets into the water. For the past few days, his attention had been drawn to the fenced corner just behind the ornamental trees. Everyone had avoided mentioning tennis in presence as long as he could remember. But they could not hide the fact that the institute, as part of Atobe Group, have a complete tennis-related facility. He felt drawn to that place, like an old familiar ache that he could not help poking at.

He crossed his forearms on the wooden railing of the miniature bridge, leaning over to look at his own reflection. His mind wandered, as it was wont to do in these quiet contemplations. He could feel the firm leathery feel of his favourite grip-tape against his palm, like the ghost of a memory.

He had unconsciously shied away from thoughts of tennis, he realised. Perhaps because everyone else had tiptoed around that topic, he himself had treated it like taboo. But if he looked at it objectively, he did not know how he felt about it. Just a blank numbness.

'_Do I even still remember how to play_?' he thought suddenly. His heart seized for a moment. He did not know if the pain of that thought was fear or grief. Perhaps, it was both. He stopped himself from thinking: _Does it really matter?_

He looked at his left arm, lying there in front of him. It looked normal, like there wasn't anything wrong with it. But he knew, it would never be normal. It hurt with a bone-deep ache when the weather turns. The senses on the fingertips and palms were dulled. Only when he pressed his fingernail hard enough to draw blood, he could feel pain. There were no sensation at all in the web between thumb and pointer. Not even when he poked it with his pencil in a pique of frustration. He watched the bead of red blood bloom against his skin, knew that he should feel something, remembering or imagining how it would hurt. But all he felt or imagined he felt was a diffused tingle. He quickly pressed a tissue against it to stop the bleeding and hide it away.

But if he closed his eyes, he could still feel the pressure of his racket handle against that spot. The slightest vibrations transmitted from the ball, into the gut, through the neck, down the handle. Vibrations that told him the speed, power, spin direction and angle. And in that split-second, his wrist, through long practice and experience, would automatically adjust the angle and spin to return the ball. His shoulder and arm all ready in full motion of the swing, converting momentum to speed and power. It was that infinitesimal changes to his forearms, wrist and palms that allowed him such infinite control over the ball. Meticulous enough to build the illusion that the ball would always return to that one spot, that was the Tezuka Zone.

Ryuuzaki-sensei had called him out, sometime in Year-2, about his too-thin grip-tapes. He should change to a thicker one. It was bad for his elbow and wrist joints. It did not have enough shock absorption to cushion his joints properly. Especially against a powerful player like Kawamura and Momoshiro. But he would never allowed such matches to go on long enough to affect him. He always won them quickly with service aces and return aces. It was simply his own style. His tennis. She just sighed, knowing him and his stubbornness. She would not bring it up again, because she knew him and his sense of responsibility. But he apologised and promised to be careful and take full responsibility for his condition. Because he understood her concern and her sense of duty.

He looked down at his watery reflection again. His face too thin, his body out of shape. It was not the physical form of an athlete. He had just run 1.3 km and his thighs cramped painfully. He frowned at his own reflection. He should be running 30 km without running out of breath. He still had a very very long way to go.

It was half-hour to dinner time. He was alone, as far as he could see. It was the reason he chose this route at this time. He straightened up and walked slowly, trying to work the kink out of his legs.

He was standing in the equipment room before he thought about it. His left hand automatically reached for a racquet on the wall rack, fingers extended to test the tension. They were from all from different manufacturers and models. He picked up a Mizuno Pro Light, his favourite model. The gut was looser than he liked, the grip covered with thick terry cloth. But it felt good in his hand. He wrapped his left hand around the handle and gave it an experimental swing. It flew out of his hand and slid under the shelves, the noise loud and jarring in the silence. He froze, heart thudding painfully.

_Calm down. There is no one here._

Feeling incorrigible guilty, like a thief in the night, he slowly he counted to ten. Then, he took a deep breath. He picked the racquet up again, almost reverently, apologising for the unintentional rough treatment. He took a basket of tennis balls and a light towel on his way out.

The next morning, Tezuka woke up to find that himself in yukata and his hair loose again. He had forgotten to note down his evening run in his notebook. He remembered running it, vaguely. He could not remember what he had for dinner. He did not remember if he put himself in bed. He felt a moment of panic. Yesterday stopped at _Physiology_ book chapter three. He should not get careless. He thought there was more. He remembered an evening run. Maybe he ran it the day before yesterday ...

The morning staff found a racquet, a basket and a towel on the floor of the equipment room, unused. He put tidied up and promptly forgot about the incident.

After his evening run, he stood on the miniature bridge overlooking the koi pond. His eyes drew him to the line of ornamental trees, but he did not know why. He shrugged and decided he should go to the gym and practice judo uchikomi with the tension cords until dinner time.

* * *

**Response to reviewers:**

Blue bird of paradise: Thank you. I always look forward to your reviews. I'm not saying who Asakura is, but I have hinted in the past. Originally, I didn't want to expand beyond him as mysterious but loyal bodyguard. But Sanada poked his nose too deep ... I might have to go into that arc I thought would be better as a separate side story. We shall see. Sorry about Kunimitsu's recovery. He is not as well as he appears to be. Hope this chapter gives some idea. Aa, I shall miss Shiroi's bishie form too. But Kunimitsu, being who he is, would try to do something about it.

Also, many thanks to the new readers who faved and followed this story.

Sorry for the slow updates. I've finally finished my current studies and am in transition from student to something else, from one country to another, from one timezone to a different one. But I have not abandoned this story.


	40. Chapter 40

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 40 – A slice of Tezuka**

When Yuriko-sensei waved him into the big comfy armchair, Tezuka sighed, but did not protest. He was familiar with this part of his session.

On the opposite wall was a clear glass door. He could see Ryuuzaki-sensei and another man observing the procedure. They could see him and Yuriko-sensei, but they could not hear.

He sat down, leaning back against the soft backrest and folded his hands neatly on his lap. He took a deep breath as Yuriko-sensei took him through the first relaxation stage of hypnotherapy.

In the past sessions, Yuriko-sensei had taken him back to his earliest memory. That fateful day when he went to play tennis with Atobe. The beginning of his nightmare.

His phone rang just as they finished changing. It was his mother. He had a letter from Japan Tennis Award committee. His application for three year scholarship/sponsorship had been accepted.

"Kunimitsu," she said breathlessly. "Congratulations! Okaasan is so proud of you! Oh! Okaasan should call your father's office. He will be so excited. He has been polishing his climbing gear and muttering foreign words, Kunimitsu. You would think tennis is just an excuse to climb the Alps! Don't worry, Kunimitsu. We will make sure Otousan sits in for all your tournaments and not tire you too much with all his climbing trips. Ah! Remember to invite your friend to go fishing with your grandfather."

That was why Atobe was the first to know. Followed by Ryuuzaki-sensei and the rest of the team on Monday.

Yuriko-sensei had tried to probe into the actual car crash, but he had thwarted her efforts. He had subconsciously blocked out the whole event when he woke up from his coma. He had lost the last three months of his memory due to his head trauma. Eventually he recovered those memory, except for the night of the accident.

Now, he could never forget it. He kept that part of his life in deep hiding places, locked under the mountains of his making. So deep, even under hypnosis, he could not reach it. If the mountains looked like soot-coloured Alps, he failed to see the resemblance or significance. She finally gave up, thinking he really did not remember, possibly as a result of his head injury.

Yuriko-sensei had now reached the early stages of his recovery. His gradual recovery of his memory. The graduation ceremony at school. The birthday parties and Atobe's extravaganzas. The winter holidays, the last New Year's day he celebrated with his family. The extra tutoring in German and English. The preparations to leave. Packing spring and summer clothes to bring with him. Winter things for his mother to send later. Finally giving in to his father's urgings to bring basic climbing gear with him, just so he could keep in practice with an indoor climbing-wall.

He spoke of his attempts to overcome his physical deteriorations and injuries through slow rehabilitations. His frustration with a body that no longer worked as it was supposed to. But slowly, he got it to work well enough for him to take care of himself. But he finally came to the conclusion that he could not pick up a racquet without emotional and physical pain.

He tried hating tennis. But he could not. He loved tennis. Even when it brought him unbearable pain. Intentionally giving up tennis in his disappointment filled him with unspeakable anguish. It was a pain that gnawed at his every waking moment. His broken promises and personal failure. But he knew a lost cause when he saw it, and he was too pragmatic to keep an impossible dream. Tennis had become a luxury item in his new life.

His new reality was a day to day battle for survival. Fighting to keep a roof over his head, mortified to find himself asking for an extension on his rent because his pay check came a day late. Trying to curb his hunger to make a meal stretch for two days, so he could save enough to buy a notebook or a sweater. Trying to walk past the seedier parts of town late at night as fast as he could. He would not admit that it frightened him, but he was greatly relieved that his trademark cold, pointed stare usually deterred unwanted attentions from the drunks and loiterers on the street. Feeling helpless for coming to work sick and half-frozen when the weather turned cold in winter. Yet, stubbornly refused to go home because he could not afford a sick day. Besides, he was warmer in his workplace than in his unheated room. He was both mortified and grateful that the cafe's manager took notice and gave him a winter coat he could not afford.

He gritted his teeth and forged on. He would not allow self-pity for himself. He had to make it work. He had to. Just one day at a time. Giving up was not an option. He had to be strong for himself. It was strange new place to find himself. He was used to being strong for someone else. If it looked like he was falling apart, Ryuuzaki-sensei would worry. She might change her mind and make him go back with her. He could not bring himself to burden her more than he all ready did. He had to able to take care of himself and prove it. He would be all right. It was important that he could manage on his own. He promised.

His voice remained steady and low, like reciting daily weather reports, devoid of emotional overtones. Only his words reflect the true emotional intensity of his struggles. After the first session, Yuriko realised that only under hypnosis, she could get Tezuka to reveal the true depths of his emotional state. He made the things he did look so easy and effortless. Yet, it was only an illusion. Very few people noticed the sheer tenacity and hard work that he put in, and the heart-break and anguish that he kept hidden beneath his calm neutral mask.

When Tezuka had finished speaking, Yuriko sent him into a light nap to give herself time to compose herself. She was beginning to get an inkling now of what was happening for the past weeks. It was pure coincidence that she was sitting in the cafeteria when the ground-staffs were gossiping about a strange mystery.

For the past two weeks, someone had been leaving a tennis racquet, a basket full of tennis balls and a towel on the floor. It did not happen everyday, so he had dismissed it as a careless staff member getting some after hours recreation. But it did not stop. It kept recurring every two to three days. He was justifiable annoyed. None of the patients play tennis and none of the staff had come forward to confess. It was turning from a bother to a mysterious ghost story.

Rather than a ghost hunt, Yuriko had Security put in a temporary video surveillance. She was completely baffled to find her patient, on three separate occasions; walked in, looked around, picked up three items, walked to the door, dropped all items, and walked out again.

When she asked Kunimitsu if he had been to the west part of the compound, he always said the most western part he had gone was the track around the pond area. When she asked Shiroi in his session, he said he sometimes found himself waking up in front of the tennis courts. Only one person knew what was really going on. Tezuka.

Kunimitsu was naturally drawn to his passion. He would deduce that the institute with state of the art sports and exercise facilities would have a tennis court. It took no effort to check the map at the lobby to figure out where the tennis courts were.

Yuriko was unclear of Kunimitsu's feelings regarding tennis in the current situation. She had been waiting for Kunimitsu to bring it up when he was ready, and he had not done so. However, based on Ryuuzaki-sensei's account after Tezuka Kunimitsu was discharged into her custody, he almost immediately tried to recover his tennis. His behaviour did not indicate someone who had formed a bitter association with tennis. Both Kunimitsu the alter and Tezuka Kunimitsu at that time did not remember the events that led to tragedy in his life.

Only when she finally heard Tezuka's revelation of that grim period of his life that she connected the pieces. Living alone, isolated, finding himself in more difficulty than he was prepared for, Tezuka Kunimitsu was on a slow descent into depression. Subconsciously, he aware of his state of mind. His recovery had been slow and disappointing for someone who was used to getting stellar results for his efforts. His attempts to regain his tennis, and the subsequent devastating lack of results were pulling him deeper and deeper into depression. He fought it the best he could. He put tennis aside. He gave himself new goals – to be self-sufficient. He slowed the downward spiral by distracting himself with work and studies. The harder the goal, the more distracted he would be.

Kunimitsu, the alternate identity, and Tezuka Kunimitsu, of his past, shared the same passion. Kunimitsu was fated to follow that same drive to regain his tennis. That was why he went to check out the tennis facility. When he did, Tezuka became aware of it. Tezuka took over, stole Kunimitsu's memory, then forced Shiroi out. He could only steal Kunimitsu's memory, but he could not change Kunimitsu's personality or thought patterns. In a few days, Kunimitsu would start thinking about his tennis, and the whole process would repeat itself.

Kunimitsu was stubbornly and reliably consistent throughout, once she figured out what he was doing. Just that, he was unexpectedly consistent in his thoughts and actions. She should have anticipated it. But she had mistaken in her expectation that without reminders or prompts on the subject of tennis, she could delay and even spare Kunimitsu from the pain of dealing with it until he was more stable. Her actions, or rather, lack of it, had unintentionally created an elephant in the room. Kunimitsu, as observant and intelligent as he was, was aware of what was missing and subconsciously complied with the taboo on tennis. Kunimitsu was not avoiding the subject. The people around him were. That was her mistake. And now, Tezuka and Kunimitsu were locked into a cycle of repeated events. Yuriko had to break the cycle.

Yuriko tapped Tezuka's hand lightly to wake him up. Him mouth turned downward when he checked the time and realised she had brought him out 10 minutes earlier than usual.

"You have to learn to let Kunimitsu do what he needs to do. I must ask you to stop interfering with him on the sly. If you do not like what Kunimitsu is doing, you have to talk to him and negotiate."

Tezuka looked right back at her. He knew what she was referring to. Yet, he displayed not a shred of remorse or shame for being caught. "It will only hurt him."

"Many years had passed between now and then. The situation now is different from then."

"It will not change. He will realise tennis will not give him the small accomplishments he had hoped for. He will realise the door is closed."

"He is not you. He is a part of you."

"He was me," his voice harsh and bitter. His eyes flicked to the clock, counting the seconds.

Yuriko knew he was waiting for the time to pass. Despite his reluctant cooperation, he was a man of his word. He attended his sessions exactly on time and disappeared again exactly 60 minutes after.

Yuriko looked calmly back at him. "Confront Kunimitsu, or let him be. Let it have a chance to be different." She held her position until he returned her gaze. "Things are different now. Kunimitsu is not alone. He is safe and cared for. We all here for him. You are here. Shiroi is here. I am here."

"Will you?"

"Always. For as long as he needs me."

Tezuka broke eye-contact and lowered his gaze. It was the barest of gesture, but it was enough for her.

"Now, let's move on to another topic." She smiled to brighten up the mood. Surely Tezuka would not find the next topic objectionable. "Kunimitsu had asked to cut his hair. Since all of you shared the same physical body, any drastic changes will affect all of you. In this case, the three of you will have to come to a consensus. Will you allow him to cut the hair?"

Tezuka frowned. "Have you spoken to Shiroi?"

It was not a reaction Yuriko expected. While she was familiar with Tezuka's expression of displeasure, she had not expected it from this trivial topic. "Yes. I am waiting for your answer so I can discuss the issue with Kunimitsu and Shiroi. Yes or no?"

"No."

"Eh?" Yuriko quickly recovered from her surprise. "I would have thought you would agree with Kunimitsu in this regard. Could you tell me your opinion in the matter?"

"Shiroi disagreed."

"Um … yes, that is true. You are the tie-breaker. I thought you would not side with Shiroi."

Tezuka looked at her, almost pityingly. "That is irrelevant."

"I would still like to hear your rationale. Or would you rather explain to Kunimitsu personally?"

"You can stop trying to coax me to talk to Kunimitsu."

"Then, I am afraid you have to help me understand, so I can explain it properly to Kunimitsu."

He was silent for a minute. Yuriko checked the clock. Only 10 seconds left. Would Tezuka disappear without explaining himself?

"The hair is a mere irritation to Kunimitsu. But it has great significance to Shiroi. Tell Kunimitsu to be patient. The time will come soon." With that, Tezuka was gone.

Yuriko was shocked. For once, Tezuka gave higher consideration to Shiroi than Kunimitsu.

* * *

**Note**

Psychoanalysis and Ego: According to Sigmund Freud, instinctual drives (id), moral and value judgments (superego), and requirements of external reality all make demands upon an individual. The ego mediates among conflicting pressures and creates the best compromise. Ego is responsible for regulating id impulses, as well as integrating an individual's functioning into a coherent whole.

Ego acts according to the reality principle; seeking to please the id's drive in realistic ways. Ego comprises the organised part of a personality structure that includes defensive, perceptual, intellectual-cognitive, and executive functions. Conscious awareness resides in the ego. It is a set of psychic functions such as judgment, tolerance, reality testing, control, planning, defense, synthesis of information, intellectual functioning, and memory. Ego separates out what is real, organize thoughts and make sense of these thoughts and the world around. Ego represents reason and common sense, in contrast to the id, which contains the passions.

"[Ego] serves three severe masters ... the external world, the super-ego and the id." Its task is to find a balance between primitive drives and reality while satisfying the id and super-ego. Its main concern is with the individual's safety and allows some of the id's desires to be expressed, but only when consequences of these actions are marginal. "Thus the ego, driven by the id, confined by the super-ego, repulsed by reality, struggles ... [in] bringing about harmony among the forces and influences working in and upon it," and readily "breaks out in anxiety — realistic anxiety regarding the external world, moral anxiety regarding the super-ego, and neurotic anxiety regarding the strength of the passions in the id."

To overcome this anxiety the ego employs defence mechanisms. The defense mechanisms are not done so directly or consciously. They lessen the tension by covering up our impulses that are threatening. Ego defense mechanisms are often used by the ego when id behavior conflicts with reality and either society's morals, norms, and taboos or the individual's expectations as a result of the internalization of these morals, norms, and their taboos. These defence mechanisms come in the forms of denial, displacement, intellectualisation, fantasy (escapism), compensation, projection, rationalisation, reaction formation, regression, repression, and sublimation, undoing, suppression, dissociation, idealisation, identification, introjection, inversion, somatisation, splitting, and substitution.

**Response to reviewers**

Blue bird of paradise: Yes, Kunimitsu's body really feels alien to him. Well, it was actually Atobe's puppy. Tezuka can't have pets where he is. As for Asakura, I'm not giving away any spoilers. Sorry :D.

Yeah, Tezuka would be lean, just not feminine (anime androgynous) like Shiroi or Fuji. I don't think I could ever make him big and muscular. Then again, he is closer to Kaidou in physique, very toned and wiry, with broader shoulders and undeniably masculine.


	41. Chapter 41

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 41 – Secret Life of Shiroi**

His name was Shiroi. He was a valuable and expensive property of the Master. He was highly sought-after. Only the elite and the rich could afford his services. In the secretive Floating World, he was a hidden jewel. An enigma within a hidden world, where there were many rumours, but no facts.

He was trained, both as a Flower and a Willow. His quiet poise, delicate beauty and melancholic countenance lent him an air of mystery. They lust for that mystery that remained visible, yet untouchable. A fragile flower encased in clear adamant. He was the sweeping willow. The graceful lines of his body spoke poetry in his elegant performances, be it restrained tea-ceremonies or elaborate dances. From the most innocuous to well-practiced gestures, he seduced them all demure glimpses of porcelain skin. A flash of the fluid turn of his wrists as he poured tea. The smooth curve of his neck as he bowed an obeisance. The beguiling long elegant fingers that caress the sandalwood fan, sending tantalisingly evanescent sweet scented air with a flick. The sculpted grace of his ankles peeking under his modest silk robes as he walked. Enchantment without words, without eye-contact, without touch. Yet, they fell easily into his spell.

His name was Shiroi, like the colour white. He was famed for wearing modest plain white kimono, in contrast to the colourful elaborate attire that commonly adorned his peers. Like a winter landscape, his cold beauty was deceptively plain and simple. The subtlety laid in the elusive patterned weave of his robes, complex white on white silk embroidery; like flashes of an ephemeral dream seen only in half light or the corner of one's eyes. His thick long hair glowed with a light of its own. He sported neither elaborate hairstyles nor colourful jewelled pins. It was always simply braided or left loose to cascade down to his knees, always adorned with an euphonious white ribbon. The exclusive men who had the honour of meeting him in person were often left speechless. There were no words to describe him, for all words that were true of him were plain and inadequate. There were no words for he gave ordinary words extraordinary shades.

His name was Shiroi, though he had been called many names, especially by men in throes of passion. The White Butterfly, beautiful and fragile. The delicate sweep of his eyelashes, and the gentle curve of porcelain skin spoke poetry. Yet a rough touch would break him, leaving dark flowering bruises. The rarer elites that had the honour to possess him, even for a short night, called him the Gossamer Snowflake. He delighted their senses, masterful in the art of carnal pleasures. Patrons had been known to stagger out of his company drunk and wobbly without a single drop of alcohol passing their lips. Yet he always leave them cool and collected, immaculate and modest. Perfectly attired and perfectly serene. Like the heavenly crystalline rain, when they try to reach out and touch his mystery, he melted away. Yet some kept trying, addicted to his enchantment.

Shiroi's earliest memory was in the Doll House, the day he was named. Yukihana-san was the first person to find him, alone and confused. The Master was the second person to enter the room. He gave Shiroi his name and place in the house.

From that day onward, Yukihana-san become his mentor and teacher. All the Dolls in the house belonged to the Master. Even Yukihana-san. Yukihana-san was the highest ranked doll. To be chosen as his protégé was a great honour. It meant Shiroi was ear-marked as having great potential and was expected to rise to be one of the highest ranking member in the Master's Doll House. An elite among elites.

Yukihana-san taught him everything he knew. When he was frightened or unsure, Yukihana-san comforted him and reassured him. Giving answers and guidance when he was confused. He had loved Yukihana-san like a child loved his mother. He had trusted Yukihana-san the way a child trusted his mother. He had felt safe and protected with Yukihana-san even when the others had been jealous of him and tried to sabotage him. Yukihana-san was also the Master's most trusted aide. He was often the link between the Master and his dolls. He knew the Master's mind and plans most clearly and saw to them. Being protégé to someone as high ranking as Yukihana-san afforded some measure of prestige and favouritism to Shiroi. But Shiroi would never take advantage of them. He did his best to do everything he could to please Yukihana-san, even more so than the Master.

Yukihana-san was also the most beautiful person in Shiroi had ever met. His hair was raven-dark, straight and long. If he left it unbound, it trailed behind his feet like a dark shimmering train. There were rumours that Yukihana-san's hair had never been cut for more than twenty years. There were a sprinkling of white now among his black tresses. While every doll moan and worry about a single white hair, Yukihana-san wore it with great dignity. The rare silver strands sparkling like rare diamond stars in the night black hair. In the many years he had lived there, Shiroi had spent countless idle hours combing that long hair. He was one of the few that were allowed to touch, tend and even style it. He was an even rarer few that Yukihana-san would groom personally.

Shiroi knew that one of the mentor's duties was to prepare their protégé in all aspects of their duties for the first year of their second life. The first life being their previous life in training, before their début as a full ranked Doll. Shiroi was Yukihana-san's only other protégé, the only one he had taken in the last ten years. Yukihana-san's first protégé, Tsubame, or 'little swallow' had been bought out by his main client, two years before Shiroi came to them. There had been many outrageous offers for Yukihana-san too, but Yukihana-san once confided in Shiroi, that the Master would never sell Yukihana-san; and Yukihana-san would never leave the Master.

So, Shiroi was the only person that Yukihana-san himself would tend to personally among the Dolls. For the first year of his life, everyday, Yukihana-san would wash, comb, treat and style Shiroi's hair, chose every single item Shiroi would wear for the day, see to his meals, plan his trainings, arrange his schedules, chose his patrons, instruct him on the likes and dislikes of each of them.

Shiroi was so ashamed of his hair, that first year. It was short, only shoulder length. It was not even long enough to braid. It was barely long enough to tie. But Yukihana-san tended it just as carefully as he tended his own precious locks, tying it simply with a bit of white ribbon at the nape. He had reassured Shiroi that short hair was fine and fitting for someone as new and young as Shiroi. It denoted his Novice ranking and inexperience. It would grow with time. The higher Shiroi grew in rank and experience, the longer he could keep his hair. If Shiroi was disobedient and careless, he would be demoted, like Mizuren who was always rebellious and had his hair chopped off as punishment. Mizuren never rose above the fifth rank.

Shiroi had never had his hair cut for as long as he lived. It was the ultimate shame to be shorn. He was always careful never to let it happen. But it was not the only reason Shiroi was careful to grow his hair as long as possible. For even after the first year, Yukihana-san still enjoyed tending Shiroi's hair, even though he let the lower ranked Dolls tend to Shiroi's other needs. Yukihana-san loved Shiroi's long hair. It was different, wavy down the length and curly at the ends. It felt like a luxurious living thing in Yukihana-san's hands. It was not straight, orderly and proper like Yukihana-san's and many of their peers. Even when it was carefully braided and coiled, there would be a few stubborn tendrils that escaped those neat bonds. But Yukihana-san loved it anyway. And Shiroi loved it because it meant he could spend many more hours at Yukihana-san's feet while Yukihana-san combed and plaited it.

The novices, no matter how long their hair, were only allowed a single hairstyle, their hair combed back and tied at the nape with a single ribbon. Different coloured ribbons denoted different types of services available. As they rose in rank, their styles become more elaborate, decorated with colourful pins, jewels and flowers. Many took to designing their own and made it their signature styles. The only time they shared a common feature was when they played the ribbon game in a group function. Then, whatever style they wear, the Dolls would put a single ribbon in their hair. And any patron that stole the ribbon would lay claim to the Doll for the night.

Despite the dazzling possibilities, Shiroi had maintained his simplistic hairstyles. Loose, tied or braided, he only had a single white ribbon on his head. It became his personal branding. From Novice to First-rank, he was Shiroi of white ribbon.

Shiroi rose through the ranks quickly. His début was so astronomically priced, he was second only to Yukihana-san. He maintained his position as the highest priced Doll through every rank until he reached the top. It was a double-edged sword. When Shiroi reached the first-rank, his value kept rising until he was slowly becoming unaffordable. His assignations become fewer, more complicated and unattainable. There were many offers to buy him out, but the Master was in no hurry to sell him. Shiroi's clientèle shifted. He became rare, segregated from group functions and public rooms. His assignments sometimes were of dubious nature. Rather than being requested by the clients, his clients were pre-arranged for him. He became an expert in seduction, especially for difficult clients with discerning tastes. He became the angel of doom for many powerful men – men with great influences, men with great wealth, men with wives and mistresses, who had never turned their lust to other men before. They were challenging, near impossible. Shiroi enjoyed the challenges and was known to make the impossible possible.

Tezuka had been silently disapproving throughout these changes. That was not new. Tezuka disapprove of everything to do with Shiroi, just on principle. As long as he was passive and sleeping quietly, Shiroi could continue to do what he did best. But when Atobe Keigo became his latest target, Tezuka was near frantic and frighteningly active.

Keigo-sama had been a target of the Master for nine months before Shiroi met him. They had difficulty getting access to him. Keigo-sama was very closely guarded by his men. He was also surprising free of many vices, be it gambling, drinking, adultery or wenching. Not even most discrete or blatant nudges could get him to hire an unknown masseuse, much less a courtesan. He kept company with high society socialites only. Not even the prettiest trophy mistress giving him sultry come-hither could entice him. His string of lovers were true born heirs and elites. Every woman that ever graced his arm was vetted and blood-lined as worthy of bearing the next generation of Atobe.

The only time Keigo-sama was even remotely accessible was when he attended the occasional business meeting in a tea-house. If it was merely an entertainment function, he would not even bother to show up. Even for a business meeting, he left the venue as soon as he finished conducting his business. He rarely stayed for longer than five minutes for the after-meeting party. When the Master found out that Keigo-sama was going to stay in a hotel in Tokyo, rather than going home to his mansion, the Master took a chance. He sent Shiroi in to do the impossible. Shiroi succeeded beyond expectations. He even got himself bought out by Keigo-sama. He knew his reputation and legend was firmly established in the Doll House for that one feat alone.

But, as all things to do with Tezuka's involvement, the whole event was highly irregular. The transactions were completed in the most unusual way and with uncharacteristic haste. When Senya was bought out, it took two years of rumours and promises before it culminated into weeks of negotiations. They had a big farewell party for him before his new master took him away in a shinny stretch limo to live with his new master. Keigo-sama did not even want to keep Shiroi. Shiroi was sold off like a piece of furniture, delivered immediately to his new master with only the briefest of negotiations. He never even got to say goodbye to Yukihana-san. If Tezuka had not been involved, Shiroi's life would not have turned upside-down and completely incomprehensible. His entire life destroyed the moment Tezuka met Atobe Keigo. It was inevitable. But Shiroi could not say that he regretted it.

Shiroi was really confused by Keigo-sama. He did not know what to do or what Keigo-sama really wanted from him. Keigo-sama was not following the usual script and Shiroi was left lost at sea. He tried his best to work out how to please Keigo-sama and guess what Keigo-sama wanted from him. It was hard and unfamiliar. Keigo-sama's world was completely mystifying to Shiroi. That was the moment he knew he did not belong. That Keigo-sama had pitied him and tried to do the right thing by him. That Keigo-sama was different, because he cared about Shiroi in the way no masters ever cared about their Dolls. That Keigo-sama tried to help him and treated him like he was … a real independent person, not a pet Doll.

Keigo-sama did not know anything about the world that Shiroi came from. So, Keigo-sama made Shiroi's life difficult in his good intentioned, but misunderstood ways. Yuriko-sensei tried her best to explain the situation to Shiroi. Shiroi understood now that Keigo-sama was trying to treat Shiroi like an equal, even when Shiroi was never meant to be treated as an equal. That Shiroi could never be one. Keigo-sama had laboured under the illusion that Shiroi was sick and needed to be cured. No one except Yukihana-san had ever shown so much care for Shiroi like Keigo-sama did. All these made Shiroi loved him even more. All these made it increasingly difficult for Shiroi to do what he needed to do. For the first time in his life, he really wanted something for himself. For the first time in his life, he learned to love someone, even when he did not understand what love was. For the first time in his life, he had been asked to give up something he could not let go. To think he never felt attached to anything or anyone until he met Keigo-sama. In that short time, Keigo-sama had taught Shiroi about possession and attachment when Shiroi had never owned a single thing in his life.

The only one person Shiroi wanted was Keigo-sama. It was not fair. Tezuka and Kunimitsu had so many other things. Shiroi only ever needed one, and it was not his to begin with. Keigo-sama belonged to Tezuka and Kunimitsu. Along with Sanada-san, Yuriko-sensei and everyone else of significance. Shiroi was really was nothing, no one. He was so small, so low, so insignificant, he could not even stand close to them. But in his heart, that had been taught never to want or ask for anything, he asked for one desperate thing. Let him have one more time with Keigo-sama. Just once. He would give up everything he had. He would never ask for anything else.

* * *

**Note:**

* Entertainment zone in East Asian context is usually referred to as Flower Town or Floating World, usually translated as red-light district. However, unlike red-light district, it caters to all forms of entertainment, both of artistic and erotic nature. The Flower and Willow are terms that refer to two separate types of professions. The flowers are courtesans while the willows are artists, musicians, poets, actors, dancers and other forms of performers.

**Responses to Reviewers:**

As I was writing Atobe and Kunimitsu's scene, I went to reread all the previous chapters to refresh my memory and note down those plot lines I have introduced but not got around to develop yet. I just want to say ... as bad as waiting for the next chapter of my favourite stories to show up, it is even worse when I am reading my own story, reach the latest chapter and realised ... "Rats! There won't be a next chapter unless I write it!" So, I jumped back and finished writing this chapter. The first part had been written a long time ago, and I am happy I finally found a good place to fit it in.

Blue bird of paradise: Thank you for all your support. Tezuka's part was always painful to write and I'm glad to hear I conveyed his part of the story properly. I hope you will enjoy more surprises to come.

Lonceng Angin: Thank you for your kind words. It makes me very happy. Keigo is due back soon. Possibly next chapter if Sanada/Tezuka don't sneak attack me. Kunimitsu/Keigo are platonic friends. Shiroi's affection will not disappear so easily, but that is one of those things that will come up and dealt with again and again, no I'm not giving anything more away on it for now.  
Yagyuu, naughty Yagyuu and Sanada ... so many little plot-lines to deal with. Atobe is missing a lot of happenings for being AWOL. 


	42. Chapter 42

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 42**

Papers rustled in the darkened cabin. Only a single desk lamp illuminated the room. The hum of the aeroplane engines permeated the very air.

Asakura placed three more files into the to-be-reviewed pile on the left corner of the table. "It is late, Master Keigo. You should sleep if you do not want to be jet-lagged when we arrive."

Atobe continued to ignore him, continuing to pen down notes along the margins of the documents. "Where are the Kanagawa reports?"

Asakura took out a black folder marked 'Confidential, Security only – Project Pet Shop'.

Atobe gave him a pointed unamused look. "You should just stop trying to be funny. You have a horrible sense of humour." He scanned through the pages, suddenly stopping in the middle. "You threatened Sanada Genichirou?"

"No. I merely warned him."

"Does it work?"

"No."

"You know how the Sanada clan is like better than me. Why bother?"

"I owe it to him. And I supposed I still have foolish hopes that he would listen."

"Well, Sanada is blaming me."

"I clearly stated you did not-"

"When you work for ore-sama …"

"All my actions represent Keigo-sama. I am sorry. It will not happen again."

"Hn." But Atobe's did not continue his perusal. His eyes lingered on Sanada's name. "Do you want to go home?"

"Want and need are completely different things."

"But when they overlap … is there a conflict of interests?"

"No, there will not be."

Atobe looked searchingly at Asakura, who endured the penetrating stare stoically. "I trust you."

"Then, would you listen to me and turn this plane around? You can manage the Japan business just as well from London."

"No. I do not hide behind my grandfather."

"Sanada Genichirou's activities will stir up danger for you."

"That is why you are here. Does the target suspect me?"

"No, not yet. But it does not mean he is not wary of you or hates you any less. He may try to remove you."

"He can try. He will be disappointed." Atobe speed read through the rest and stamped 'To be destroyed' on the file. He handed it back to Asakura to process. "Go to sleep. We land in eight hours and you are the one who should be alert when we do."

"Before I go … Are you okay?"

"Ore-sama is always fabulous."

"Yes, fabulously disturbed," Asakura said dryly. "Do you really think I did not notice you have been rather glum lately, when you should not be. You did a fantastic job in that crisis and you even managed to seize control of the Eastern Europe operations. You … you should be insufferably smug and self-satisfied, but … you are not. I don't even understand why we are here. I don't think you even look forward to going back to Japan."

"I am fine. I will be fabulously smug and charming when we touch down."

Asakura heaved a long frustrated sigh.

"Don't worry about it. It has nothing to do with my personal safety. Good night."

Asakura knew a direct dismissal when he heard it.

Shiroi smiled happily as Keigo-sama and Sanada-san came through the door. He had been having black outs more and more often now. He didn't know how long had it been since Keigo-sama came to visit him. He suspected Keigo-sama had come more often, but Shiroi wasn't Shiroi, so he couldn't meet Keigo-sama.

"I'll be outside. I have some things to discuss with Asakura-san," said Sanada.

Atobe nodded without looking back. His gaze remained on Shiroi, serious but gentle.

Shiroi went to him. "Keigo-sama!" he greeted eagerly. Keigo-sama looked tired, even if he did not sound so. Keigo-sama carried himself the way he always did, full of energy and confidence. But Shiroi had been trained with an eye for details. He did not miss the slight shadows under his eyes and the imperceptibly sharper angles of his face.

"Shiroi, how have you been?"

"Shiroi is well, Keigo-sama."

Before meeting Keigo-sama, no one ever asked how Shiroi was. If he was all right or sad or happy or troubled. Ever since Keigo-sama had taken custody of him, there were many people who asked him. Especially the sensei that Keigo-sama said would make him better. But Shiroi was not sure if the sensei was making Shiroi better or worse. He trusted Keigo-sama, so he tried his best to believe in the sensei too. And the sensei told him things would get worse before it got better.

Atobe Keigo gave Shiroi a long look. "Something is bothering you." It wasn't a question.

Shiroi avoided his penetrating gaze. "Shiroi don't want to trouble Keigo-sama."

"If it's bothering you, I want to hear it."

Shiroi swallowed uncomfortably. Never complain. Accept everything. That was his place, that was his duty. But Keigo-sama kept pushing Shiroi into unfamiliar territories and breaking all kinds of rules that Shiroi had lived with all his life. But Keigo-sama had given Shiroi an order. That took precedence over everything else. Still, he hesitated.

Atobe sat himself at the plush sofa, arranging the cushions around him. Then he crooked a finger and said, "Come here."

Shiroi went eagerly to Atobe, climbing in next to Atobe to lay his head on Atobe's shoulder. Shiroi closed his eyes and snuggled in as Atobe wrapped his arms around Shiroi.

Once Shiroi settled down and became comfortable, Atobe tried again. "Now, tell me why you haven't been talking with that woman."

Shiroi shook his head. "Shiroi talked to Sensei."

"You only tell her some things. Just things you think she wants to hear. If you don't want to tell her, you can tell me now. I'm here and I want to hear it."

Shiroi tensed and pulled back, sitting up sideways, facing Atobe. He looked down on his hands, carefully arranging them in his lap. "Shiroi ... Shiroi don't belong in this world. In Keigo-sama's bright and beautiful world."

Atobe opened his mouth to contradict Shiroi, but a small quiet voice in his ear asked him to remain silent, to see what Shiroi would say next. Really, Atobe thought irritably, why was he paying the damn woman if he had to do all the work. It was what he hired her for - to fix Shiroi or Tezuka or whatever he was. But no, there she was, in the next room, listening on their conversation and whispering instructions into Atobe's ear.

Seeing Keigo-sama stopped himself from saying anything, Shiroi was compelled to add, "Shiroi is not meant to exist outside."

"Why?" he demanded. The hell with that woman. He would do it his way.

"Keigo-sama." Shiroi took Atobe's hand in his. He still avoided eye-contact with Keigo-sama. "Shiroi is nothing. Shiroi is a dream. A fantasy. Shiroi does not exist in the real world. Tezuka ... he said we are not needed any more. We will both disappear. Because we don't belong in this world. When _he_ wakes up, we will die."

"Is that what troubles you? That sensei is trying to kill both of you?"

Shiroi shook his head. "Shiroi is bad. Shiroi is tainted, broken, dirty. But, Shiroi don't want to die."

_Please live, Kunimitsu. You have to live. _A woman's voice. Shiroi did not know who she was, but she was a very important person to all of them. She was so important, her words were law. It was the only thing Tezuka shared with him from the past. The mandate of Shiroi's existence.

"Shiroi had to live for all of us. Because she wants us to. But now, there is no need for Shiroi any more. No more bad people that will hurt _him_. As long as Shiroi exists, _he_ would never be whole. Even when Sensei doesn't want to say it, Shiroi knows. Shiroi does not exist."

A tear-drop fell on Atobe's hand. Wet and warm, then slowly grew cold.

"Shiroi wanted Keigo-sama to be Shiroi's. But it wasn't even ... Keigo-sama knew _him_ even before Shiroi. Keigo-sama was _his_, even before Shiroi existed. This body does not belong to Shiroi. This life does not belong to Shiroi. Shiroi tries to give back ... but ... Shiroi is sorry. Shiroi is selfish. Shiroi wants ... Shiroi want to stay with Keigo-sama. Shiroi is jealous of _him_. Shiroi love Keigo-sama most. But _he_ ... _He_ is the one that belongs in Keigo-sama's world. Shiroi should let go. Shiroi should go away now that Shiroi is not needed anymore. But Shiroi don't want to. Shiroi want Keigo-sama. Shiroi don't want to die."

More drops pattered down on Atobe's hand. Shiroi still remained bowed over. Even after all this time, he did not like crying in front of anyone. He didn't want others to look at his tearful face.

"Let him speak," Yuriko whispered in Atobe's ear. It was a break through, of some kind with the Shiroi alter. She was busy digesting and rearranging Shiroi's disjointed words to piece together his meaning.

Atobe wrapped his free hand around Shiroi, stroking his shoulder and back.

"Tezuka does not want Shiroi. Shiroi is a disgrace. A reject. Shiroi do bad things. Shiroi have no shame. No dignity. Unworthy. Weak. Useless. Stupid. Nothing. Shiroi means nothing." Shiroi sniffled. "Tezuka said hurtful things. But Tezuka is always right."

Well, good or bad, at least the woman's effort to get internal communication open between the two main identities seemed to be effective. However, it didn't sound like Tezuka have anything good to say to Shiroi at all. Atobe could not be angry with the Tezuka alter either. He realised, if Tezuka Kunimitsu had let go of all self-restraints, he would be like dark Tezuka. Saying the truth, no matter how hurtful. Doing things that needed doing without considering the costs. The unfiltered Tezuka was both compassionate and cruel. Even when it meant Tezuka put down and bad mouthed Shiroi like this. To get Shiroi to do what needed to be done. He shifted and cupped Shiroi's face with both hands, lifting the sad tearful face to meet his gaze. Ever so gently, he wiped away the tears with his thumbs.

"I would never hold Tezuka or Kunimitsu like this," he said softly. "Or touch them like this." He leaned over to kiss Shiroi's forehead. Then lifted his chin higher to kiss his lips, tasting the saltiness of Shiroi's tears.

Shiroi parted his lips, inviting Atobe to deepen the kiss.

Atobe obliged him.

A discreet cough in his ear-bud warned him to back off. It was not healthy for Atobe to encourage Shiroi's fixation on him.

Atobe's view was very different. To him, Shiroi was the most innocent and child-like of the three alters. Perhaps, not as young as Kunimitsu, but mentally, he was the youngest. Yuriko estimated Shiroi's mental maturity to a 10-year-old child. Each of them were lonely and isolated in their own way. But Shiroi was the most neglected, most pitiful of them all. All he wanted was a little reassurance. Just a little love and direction.

It was Tezuka's fault. Shiroi was left without years of societal and cultural instructions about rights and wrongs from childhood. He was left a blank slate for The Master and everyone else around him to manipulate and recreate. Because Tezuka could not cope with the abuse, the training, the life that had been forced onto Shiroi to deal with. Because Tezuka Kunimitsu's upbringing was too rigid and unforgiving of his own helplessness. He could not accept what was happening to him. He did the only thing he could to protect his sanity. He gave up and went into hiding. It caused the Shiroi alter to splinter and manifest. He left Shiroi to hold the ball all alone when he didn't want to play any more.

Atobe's insight had been giving him grim premonitions for several months now. That his time with Shiroi was running out. He had avoided seeing Shiroi as long as he could, despite Sanada's confused and well-intentioned urgings. His emergency and legitimate business trip was both a serendipitous coincidence and a convenient excuse. His rationale had finally caught up with his intuition now he was back, when he finally stopped pushing the dark feelings away and analysed them honestly. He knew now why he felt such dark forebodings about letting Shiroi see him again. Why he had unconsciously kept himself away from any kind of contact, even from a simple telephone call. It was inevitable, and he had been postponing the inevitable for a long long time. It was not like him to run away. It was time. He had ran out of time. It was inevitable.

He hesitated a moment. But this was his last chance. He owed Shiroi … and himself … some closure. He would never be free to pursue what he really wanted. Despite his seemingly lack of concern for any kind of rules, both natural and man-made, he was well aware of them - every shade, every limit, and every consequence. He knew how to manipulate them, when to bend them and when to break them. And he was well aware of the ones that could never be broken. He knew Shiroi understood them too well, where he was concerned.

Atobe took off the ear-bud and turned off the wireless mike. Then he pulled the drapes over the one-way mirror. Atobe slipped one hand behind Shiroi to pull him closer. His other hand tilted Shiroi's head back to look deeply into his eyes.

"Tezuka and Kunimitsu may know me longer. But I do not love them like I love you," he said softly.

"Keigo-sama …" The tight painful ugly knot in Shiroi's chest loosened suddenly. The unfamiliar and frightening feelings within him dissipated so easily with just a touch and a few words from Keigo-sama. As jealousy and desperation left him, another unfamiliar emotion surged within him, equally conflicting and confusing. He felt warm and tingly, he wanted to laugh and cry. He felt a wave of calm acceptance and ponderous weight of finality. He could do this. He had to. Now, he could, because Keigo-sama unwittingly gave him the courage.

Shiroi broke away and went to fetch something from a drawer. He did not go back into Keigo-sama's arms. Instead, he knelt in front of Keigo-sama, presenting a pair of scissors to him.

"Shiroi …" Atobe frowned at the scissors.

"Please, Keigo-sama. Will Keigo-sama cut Shiroi's hair?"

Atobe remained silent. He did not move or take the scissors. The ritual was … In ancient Japan, hair was a symbol of life and status. The long hair was believed to contain a man's soul. The cutting of one's hair was tantamount to grave punishment, such as exile, or execution. In modern days, it was a symbolic death. The significance was not lost on Atobe, even if he did not believe or subscribe to it. He really did not want this. But want and need were entirely different things.

Shiroi's outstretched hands trembled a little. Really, he had never performed this pose so poorly. But he had never held this pose for such a life-shattering significance before. It had to be Keigo-sama. No one else would do.

"You know what you are asking of me?"

There was a rough strained edge to Keigo-sama's voice that Shiroi had never heard before. His eyes glittered and he had a strange expression on his face, both gentle and stern.

"Yes." Shiroi suspected that Keigo-sama could guess at his motive, even if he did not know the details. Keigo-sama was brilliant at that sort of thing. "It has to be Keigo-sama."

Shiroi took a deep breath. "A courtesan has two names. When …" He could not keep the tremor out of his voice. "When a courtesan is bought out … only his new master has the right to cut his hair. And when he does, the … the courtesan loses his Doll name." For Shiroi who only had one name ...

"And leaves the Doll's life," Atobe interjected. For Shiroi, who have only one name and one life … "I don't want you to disappear."

"Thank you, Keigo-sama." This was the right thing to do. This was what it should be. "Keigo-sama will forget Shiroi someday."

"Never."

"Yes, Keigo-sama." Shiroi bowed his head in final obeisance. He could never disagree with Keigo-sama. He was so happy. A single word could make him happier than he had ever been in his life, more than he had any right to be. He felt Keigo-sama's warm hands covering his own, taking the scissors from him. The last thing he felt was Keigo-sama's lips pressed affectionately on his forehead and Keigo-sama's hand caressing his cheek.

When Atobe left the room, he had Shiroi's long braided hair coiled in his hand. "I have killed Shiroi," he announced quietly.

Before Sanada or Yuriko could respond, he turned and left with Asakura in tow.

* * *

**Notes:**

_Cutting off hair in ancient East Asia (Japan, China) symbolises being banished or rejected. In ancient China, castration was accompanied by chopping off hair. In modern age, cutting long hair into short (e.g. Shishido's little drama) means to leave the past, and starting anew (i.e. a symbolic death and rebirth). Hence, Atobe's comment to Sakaki that 'This guy (aka reborn Shishido) has not lost yet.'_

**Response to reviewers**

Thank you to all the new readers who faved and followed this story. It is nice to know that there are people to are just discovering this story. I know many readers had been waiting eagerly for Atobe's return. Hope I have answered some questions regarding Atobe and Shiroi. In a way, this chapter returns to the first three characters that were introduced in the beginning and the common theme that each of them have to face.

Blue bird of paradise : Yes. You could say it was a build up to this chapter, which is a major milestone. Phew! I have not forgotten my other works ... even if they are getting rather neglected. :P

Guest: ... because _ (please complete in 100 words). :D


	43. Chapter 43

**Splintered Mirror**

**Chapter 43: Aftermath**

Silence reined over the room following Atobe's announcement.

After a few minutes, a soft whisper broke the silence. "What the hell!" Followed by a string of incomprehensible words in what Sanada thought would be German, or French. He need not understand the language to understand the meaning. It grew, bit by bit, like a gathering storm, getting louder in a crescendo of heartfelt curses.

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" It broke violently, accompanied by loud thumps of Yuriko stamping her feet and tearing off the headphones and microphone. In a flash, she was standing in front of the door to the safe room, her fists pressed tightly against her breast. She took three long, drawn out breaths. By the third, she had regained her composure, her expression calm and professional once more.

Yuriko knocked firmly on the door three times before announcing herself. Then, she opened the door.

The person in the room was alert. He stood up as she opened the door, his hands still fingering the cut ends his hair. He looked bewildered at Yuriko for a few seconds before his eyes automatically went to the clock. "I ... It is not my time yet."

"Tezuka-kun." Yuriko sighed.

"I am not scheduled ..."

"I know," Yuriko assured him hurriedly. "I am sorry, but the last session ended early." She went closer to him and gave him a quick once over, checking his pulse, temperature and blood pressure. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine. I don't think I am sick," he murmured over the thermometer.

"I mean emotionally," Yuriko clarified. "Are you feeling any stress? Pain? Anger? Fear? Sadness?"

"No, I am fine." He eyed her strangely. "Am I to understand that I can have short hair now?" He looked at her steadily and calmly, the slight tilt to his head telling her that he did not quite fully understand what the fuss was all about.

"Ah... yes. Are you sure you feel fine? Nothing strange or unsettling or … unusual?"

"No."

"Good. Good."

"Sensei, this is not my … time slot."

"Ah … yes, yes... Well, um … I supposed you can do whatever you want. We will discuss this further in tomorrow's appointment."

Without much ado, he excused himself and disappeared.

Apparently, Kunimitsu – she was quite certain it was Kunimitsu – did not seem to suffer any ill effects from Shiroi's sudden demise, if Atobe's announcement was true. But Yuriko could not relax yet. She quickly caught up with Sanada, reminding him to keep what he knew had happened in the past hour to himself. She could not risk any rumours or speculations getting back to Kunimitsu and Tezuka before she could tell them herself and deal with the fall out.

* * *

Atobe Ryuuko lounged comfortably in her son's sitting room, a book of fabric samples opened on the coffee table before her. The butler, Michael, watched her with thinly veiled concern while he served her tea.

"Master Keigo should be home shortly. He has just left the office."

Ryuuko dismissed him with a nod, before taking a sip, completely cool and composed. Nothing in her perfect posture and smooth features revealed the troubling questions in her mind. She set the teacup aside and looked at the silk-covered box on the footstool by her side. She knew the large wing-back chair that Keigo favoured (He was very much like his grandfather in that regard) shielded her from being seen from the door. Nevertheless, she did nothing more lay a hand on the buttery smooth silk satin of the mysterious box. It was large, but not heavy, about the size of a shoebox.

She had come to Japan alone this time. She had hoped to take the opportunity to speak to her son privately about some matters that had worried her for the past few months. She did not expect to find even more mysteries waiting for her in Japan.

When Keigo decided to move to Japan after his graduation, he seemed happy and optimistic. It had been a little over a year now since that decision and he seemed to be doing well, above and beyond all expectations. She was very proud of him, but also troubled. The last few months, he had been travelling all over Europe on business. She had seen him several times during that period, mostly in Vienna and Copenhagen. While he was very busy and appeared to have everything under control, he also seemed … preoccupied. Yes, that was the closest word to describe him. Not that anyone but those closest to him would notice.

The urgency and scale of the crises that the subsidiary and sister companies faced were complex and difficult. It was easy to explain away Keigo's preoccupation. But her maternal instinct and her insight into her own child's psyche were not so easily pacified. Keigo was busy, yes. He was brilliant and attentive to details, yes. His performance was flawless. But in the moments between crisis, he was … distracted. Like there was something else on his mind. The long thoughtful look on his face as he stared off into the horizon was practically alien to him.

His usual flamboyance and bravado were subdued. She hardly heard any thoughtless, demeaning or cutting remarks from him towards the people he dealt with. He was almost tactful, for Keigo, that is. He was still blunt and honest as usual, for that she hoped he never changed. But he was quite careful with his words, more than diplomacy and negotiating skills would have called for. She hoped it was nothing more than Keigo maturing into a fine young man.

She was happy with what she had seen. Coming back to Japan was good for him. But she was also worried. Keigo was … getting more secretive and suspicious. He was not as unguarded and artless as he was as a child. That was to be expected of anyone exposed to the double-dealings and cut-throat politics of multi-national corporations. She could not fathom what he need to be secretive about to his own mother. One thing about Keigo and his father … they both liked to do things big and loud, or in their words – grand and opulent. It was difficult for them to keep anything secret for long. The sheer logistics and manpower required for their plans made it impossible. What they did not announce to the world through press releases, the tabloids and news media did on their behalf.

She would have liked him to learn a little subtlety and the light touch of restraint, but he was always too impatient, too impulsive, too excited … too driven. She was pleased to see positive and subtle changes in him, and signs of him growing up. But she was troubled by the mystery of the _reason_ behind the changes. What was so important or scandalous that Keigo needed to be so secretive? Not even her subtle probing could yield any result.

She looked down at the box again. Perhaps, there in, lay the answer. She did not mean to pry. Really, she did not. She needed a coat sample for a tuxedo to give to the fashion designer in Milan. It would not have been necessary, had Keigo dropped in at the Milan villa as she had told him to. But he had flown straight back and she did not have to heart to call him back after only three days in Japan. So, she had gone through his closet and found that strange looking white box that did not belong there.

He had not slept in his bed last night. Michael did not know where he went. Only that he was not in Tokyo and that he was safe and well with Asakura. Asakura Yoshikage … another mystery and another of Keigo's secret.

Keigo was changed, however slight it was, since he met Asakura. He seemed to harbour a simmering anger. She could not help but realised that Keigo had somehow lost whatever his innocence he had left. Not that he had much innocence left after the age of sixteen. Keigo's father was not known for being soft. He had thrown Keigo head first into the shark-infested waters that was the Atobe empire. Keigo was a realist and, despite his penchant for flamboyance and fripperies, pragmatic at heart. That much, he inherited from her.

But the changes triggered by Asakura's arrival had alarmed her that she investigated his relationship with Keigo immediately. If Keigo had been blackmailed, coerced, or threatened, she would have made Asakura disappear, wiped out of Keigo's life completely. On the contrary, Keigo's anger was not directed at Asakura. Instead, he seemed to trust the man more than anyone she had ever met. While Asakura's identity was dubious at best (many things did not add up when it came to Asakura), Keigo was not threatened or endangered in any way. Furthermore, Asakura was strangely over-protective of Keigo, which allayed some of her suspicions of him. Therefore, she decided to let them be.

"Mother!" Keigo burst into the room with Michael at his heels. She caught a corner of black trouser leg where Asakura had positioned himself by the wall, out of sight, but within hearing distance. He knew better than to show his face in front of her.

"Keigo." Ryuuko greeted her son with a warm hug, dismissing the butler with a wave behind his back.

"What are you doing here? Where is Father? Is he here too?"

"Why Keigo? Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Always a pleasure, Mother," he responded without missing a beat.

"Have you forgotten your cousin's wedding, Keigo?" she said coolly.

"Oh." His eyes automatically took in the sample book. "The tux … I'll just get one made here, Mother. You need not bother."

"Nonsense, Keigo. You are the best man. I want you to match. Come, sit. Maya and her future husband will be wearing Old Ivory. I want to see what colour would suit you best. Charcoal is so last year. Perhaps Sunset Glow, or Midnight Rose. No. Twilight Orchid brings out your eyes. Yes, we should go with this one."

"A shade lighter than Twilight, Mother. We wouldn't want to upstage Maya's plain-looking betrothed."

"How thoughtful of you, Keigo. Royal Aurora, then. The bridesmaid would look lovely in that colour too." Ryuuko sat down on the long divan, pulling her son with her. She cupped his cheeks with her slender hands. "Now, Keigo, tell your mother. How have you been? Have you been eating well? Did you get enough sleep?"

"I am fine, Mother. Stop mothering me."

"But Keigo, I am the only person in the world who has the right to mother you."

But Keigo resisted her attempt to disarm him. He pulled back long enough to see the box she had hidden by the wing-back. "Mother! What are you really doing here?"

"Oh, Keigo. I just want to see my son," she pouted.

"Mother, stop playing games with me. What do you want?"

"Very well. I want some explanations. What is this, Keigo?" She opened the box and pulled out a severed long braided hair.

"Don't touch that!" He snatched Shiroi's hair back, coiling it carefully back into the box. "I am an adult now, Mother. I think I deserve some privacy," he said angrily.

"Don't be like that, dear. You are not five any more. I taught you better. If you really want to keep something private, there is such thing as untraceable security box."

He ignored her light-hearted chiding.

"Come now, Kei-chan. Don't be embarrassed. It's so macabre. Why do you have that awful thing? What is really going on since you moved here? Is it a girl? I promised I won't be angry."

He looked silently at her. She could practically see him weighing his options. He really could not go against her wishes, not for long any way.

"Your father is not here. He is busy consolidating the positions you have brought him in Europe with his own people."

Yet, he remained silent, looking away.

"I promise I won't tell. Pinky swear."

"I am not five," Keigo said testily.

And she had him. "So, who is this girl? Do you love her?"

"No. This belonged to a man. I killed him."

"Don't be melodramatic, Kei-chan. Come, sit down. Tell your mummy." She opened her arms to him. He unbent enough to sit next to her and laid his head on her shoulder. She took advantage of the rare display of affection to stroke his soft silky hair. Her Keigo had grown up so tall, she could not do this any more while standing up.

"It is not important. He was just a figment of someone else's imagination. It's over anyway," he said dejectedly.

This close to him, she could see the glimmer in his eyes. She had really crossed the line and touched a raw nerve. She could tell he was close to tears and so tired of holding it back. "It was important to you," she said softly, abandoning all her playful banter in the seriousness of his disclosure. "Did you love him?"

"I don't know."

"You cared about him."

"Very much."

"Why did you let him go?"

"Because I have to. He had to become who he really is. He was not mine anyway. He is not real."

"So you had to kill him."

"I had to let him die."

She noticed he had changed from active to passive. While she still had no clear idea what had happened, Keigo had changed from blaming himself to accepting the unpleasant inevitability. All the same, she hoped he was speaking metaphorically, because she cannot imagine her little Keigo as a cold-blooded murderer. Then again, he did mention the owner of the very physical and real hair as an imaginary person. What on earth had her Kei-chan been up to?

He turned his head and squirmed closer. "I hate myself," he mumbled into her shoulder.

"No, you don't. You just hate doing the right thing, instead of getting what you want."

"But I do want that too. I want both …"

"My greedy little Kei-chan," she said warmly, and let him cry himself out. She will get the rest of the story out of Asakura later.


End file.
